A Demon's Tale
by Felscribe592
Summary: A story about my character Velscar. The journey to avenge his sister Lenaria will take him to the distant world of Mardum and the exotic Broken Isles, right up to a confrontation with the Deceiver himself. He will encounter violence, death, betrayal, and, surprisingly, love. Rated M for some descriptions of violence.
1. Awakening

_Hey there, readers! The name's Felscribe592, and while I'm new to the world of Fanfiction, I'm definitely not new to the world of Azeroth! One thing I've noticed on-site is that the role of Demon Hunters within Warcraft society seems to be sorely lacking. Being the Illidari fanboy that I am, I've decided to add to what I hope will be an exciting—and hopefully, thanks to you—growing number of tales regarding one of the most controversial classes in the game. This particular story is in regard to my character Velscar, though hopefully you'll recognize a few other characters as the story progresses. With that, let us begin…but first, a disclaimer!_

 _DISCLAIMER: I did not create the World of Warcraft. I merely reside within it._

A Demon's Tale

Chapter 1: Awakening

I woke to the sound of horrified screaming. Rising from the ragged, foul-smelling bed, I turned my gaze in every direction I could think of, for my sight had somehow failed me completely. Everywhere I looked, left, right (which was which?), all was black. The screams continued, and I realized that they were my own.

"Calm down. The shock will wear off faster than you think. Believe me, I went through the same thing."

"Who's there?" I demanded, groping about blindly.

A sinister cackle greeted me in response.

"I could tell you," said my visitor. "But I think you should try to see for yourself."

"See for myself?" I asked, hating how pathetic I sounded. "I can't even see my own hand in front of my face!"

To demonstrate, I waved said hand, relieved that I wasn't completely helpless, even if my muscles protested against the simplest of motions.

The unknown individual laughed again. It was an unnerving sound, almost demonic in nature.

"You know…I thought the exact same thing," he replied.

The evil cackle triggered a memory at the back of my mind. I had come here for a reason, and it had something to do with demons…

As if in response, the darkness suddenly flew outward, like a fog clearing away on a sunny day. But there was no sun to greet me, only a series of strange, multi-colored lights. They shifted and twisted and writhed before me. Trying to focus on any one of them made my head ache, and I quickly stopped trying.

"Now you can see, can't you? It takes time."

"The haze is clearing," I admitted.

"Follow the sound of my voice," my visitor instructed. "Focus on it. Let the magic do the rest."

I did as he commanded, wishing the lights would clear away, or at least take on form or substance.

Surprisingly, that's exactly what happened—the chaotic mess suddenly swam around before the world burst into life before me, all color and energy, defined in a way that far surpassed anything I had felt before. I could see the tiniest cracks in the stone walls, feel every inch of the filthy rags beneath me…and smell them, too. As my feet finally hit the floor, I knew the exact makeup of the rough stones, which would have cut into my flesh and which were safe to walk on. And yet for unknown reasons, I also knew that something as mundane as stubbing my toe on the floor was no longer a concern. Something had changed in me, and I was physically stronger for it. Whether the change would affect my mind remained to be seen, but with the world now visible before me, I lifted my gaze to greet the visitor.

Like me, he was a night elf, standing proud and tall. But this was an elf unlike any I had ever seen, for his eyes were shrouded by a scrap of dark cloth, and malevolent energies played about his form. Again that word came to mind: demonic. As I focused on his body, I could make out what looked like scales and claws…and fangs. What had happened to him?

"If you can see, you can walk," he said shortly. "Follow me."

Finally able to rise from the sorry excuse for a bed, I followed my visitor out of the cell. The long, dark corridor was full of them, and I wondered if this elf also had one. As we continued along the hallway, I realized with a start that the sickly green lanterns were useless to me—my strange new eyesight illuminated every hidden crevice of the chamber. So preoccupied was I with taking in the scenery that I nearly collided with the elf as he came to a stop by the door.

"Do you not remember anything?" he asked.

"I remember…something about magic," I said, trying to focus. "A ritual? I came here…for a reason. Something about demons."

"You came here to slay them," he told me. "You came here to be a Demon Hunter."

Demon Hunter…it was as if the words themselves carried a potent magic. A sharp pain rang through my skull, and again I heard myself cry out as it all came racing back: the journey to the Black Temple, meeting Illidan, the ritual…

"Amnesia is one of the more…desirable side effects," he told me. "But you remember now, don't you?"

"I remember that I came here to slay demons," I growled, surprising myself.

"As did we all."

"And who are you?" I demanded, still feeling cheated.

"Who are you?" he echoed. "Your memories are returning, aren't they? Name yourself."

As the pain finally shrunk to a dull numbness, I could feel my mind awakening with the rest of my body. I took several breaths, trying to restore myself to a sense of calm.

"I am Velscar of Darkshore," I proclaimed, "and I wish to become a Demon Hunter."

"We'll see if you can survive long enough for that, Velscar," said the elf, no humor in his voice. "I am Vandel, and I bid you welcome to the Illidari."


	2. Learning to Survive

_So what did you guys think of the intro? Love it, hate it? Did I do justice to the Demon Hunter 'post-surgery'? Please leave a review with any suggestions!_

 _Disclaimer: I did not create the World of Warcraft, I merely reside within it._

Chapter 2: Learning to Survive

It had been three weeks since Vandel had first introduced me to my new life. Three weeks since the magical needle plunged into my flesh, decorating my skin with the swirling green symbols that now covered my chest.

Three weeks of fighting a losing battle with the wrathguard whose blood now ran through my veins. By day it commanded me to wage war on the Black Temple, and at night it kept me from sleep, encouraging me to slash and maim and kill everyone I had come to know as friend and ally.

All this even as more of my life prior to the ritual began to return.

Once, I had been what Lord Illidan called a 'nightstalker,' but what other races and kingdoms simply referred to as a 'rogue.' The Master had explained that my skill at manipulating the shadows to avoid attack would become magnified upon my transformation. Such was the case with any of my new allies. Spellcasters already adept at manipulating arcane energies or healing with the Light would find themselves especially proficient at doing the same with fel magic. Warriors would find their physical strength increased a hundredfold. I doubted any of the self-righteous druids would have considered walking this path, but shuddered nonetheless as I imagined what frightening changes demonic energy might have wrought upon the shapeshifters.

But they wouldn't, of course—the druids' pride was too important to them, and the Archdruid's pets had already failed in time of need. When my home burned during the Third War, there had been plenty of them stationed in Darkshore. My sister Lenaria had been one of these. I thought back to all the times we'd hunted together; for all my speed and stealth, I had never been able to outpace Lena in her feline form.

But no amount of nature magic or shapeshifting could save our village. Our home had been crushed into the very earth that had nurtured it, the remains burning as demons of the Burning Legion marched through on their way to Mt. Hyjal. For all her agility, Lena couldn't outrun a felhound or overpower an infernal. And the druids? They were needed to protect their precious World Tree from Archimonde. The few that had survived had immediately fled to join forces with the Archdruid…the same elf that had banished his own brother mere days ago, for doing what Malfurion himself could not. The injustice of it still ate away at me, almost as much as the agony of never having been able to bury my sister.

 _Unstoppable, an unstoppable onslaught, just like you saw…just like you_ all _saw…_

"Shut up," I muttered, and spat off the walls of the Black Temple.

Rising to join the others, I began to wonder. We all had demons by nature, but how far gone we were varied between elves. Even Vandel seemed to struggle on his worst days. More than once I had caught sight of the older elf fingering that pendant he was so fond of. Clearly it held special significance for him, perhaps even familial importance. But I didn't push him on it—if Vandel sought vengeance for a dead relative, then he was no different from the rest of us. Gazing down at the long, claw-like nails that had begun to grow from my fingers, I was again reminded of Lena.

Yes, it was vengeance for those who could no longer claim vengeance for themselves. That was what drove us on, we few who had managed to survive this long.

 _Yes…vengeance. Vengeance and blood and death!_

My lips contorted into a horrible grin as I reluctantly agreed. At times, my purposes aligned with those of the demon—that was why I had started down this path in the first place. So long as that held true, I remained in control.

 _Give up control, give it up! Free yourself to power and glory and endless slaughter!_

When I reached the Ruins of Karabor, the training was already underway. Varedis loomed over the recruits in his usual spot on the ledge above, and I scowled at the blood elf's arrogance. I turned my gaze away to where Vandel was dueling another night elf, and felt immense pity for his opponent. There were already stories about Vandel's great power, rumors that Lord Illidan himself had marked the elf for greatness.

Supposedly, the old elf had actually killed another recruit in training…by burning him alive with demonic fire.

As I watched Vandel deliver what would have been a killing blow, I felt grateful to not have to face him in combat. No, today I would spar with Kor'vas. Like me, she had also sprouted a pair of long, twisted horns since her transformation. She glared out from behind a blindfold, her slim form crouched in a combat stance.

"I hope you're not expecting any special treatment," she taunted.

I knew better than to brush aside her comment. To say life as a demon hunter was hard would have been a mortally fatal understatement—it was nothing short of brutal. Every hour was devoted to one thing, and one thing only: survival. Lord Illidan was training us to fight the most sadistic, bloodthirsty creatures imaginable. To show mercy to such creatures would be suicidal.

Which meant that we had to extend the same courtesy to each other.

 _Yes…no mercy. Mercy is for the weak. Only the killing matters. You must kill her, kill her, kill her!_

I was no fool; I knew full well that Illidan's methods were questionable, at best. At times it seemed like he was trying to kill us rather than train us. And only the Betrayer himself could see how that made sense, if raising an army truly was his end game. Even without the protective wards, I don't think I could have brought myself to strike down a fellow demon hunter, as Vandel had. Then again, if the stories were true, Ravael hadn't left him much choice in the matter.

 _No choice. There is no choice. Kill or be killed!_

I answered Kor'vas' taunt with one of my own.

"Special treatment would be letting you make the first move," I snarled.

To demonstrate, I rushed toward her, my new powers carrying me an impossible distance. I lashed out with my blades, but Kor'vas evaded both, glowing an eerie green and swiftly vanishing into thin air. Already I could sense her behind me, swinging her own weapons at my back. These I blocked with my right-hand weapon, before vaulting over her head and throwing my left-hand sword down at her. From the air, I watched as Kor'vas stumbled, having just barely deflected the deadly projectile. My satisfaction only grew as I landed atop my opponent.

"Yield," I demanded.

"Never," she hissed.

For a moment, she struggled, but I had both her arms pinned to the ground. And I had to admit, having her at my mercy gave me grim pleasure.

 _Yes…savor the kill. Savor it, and kill. Kill. Kill!_

Suddenly, Kor'vas jerked her head up, and at first, I thought she was trying to retaliate with a headbutt. The notion was amusing, the reality far more painful as her horns impaled me where my eyes had been. I roared in agony, and Kor'vas forced me back, her horns still puncturing my empty sockets. I felt a great heat begin to gather where my eyes had been. Then, the fel energies rushed out in a great blaze of power, and I heard Kor'vas scream.

Reaching up, I pulled out her horns, and stared in shock—they were no longer attached to her head. The demon fire had burned them clean off, leaving Kor'vas with nothing more than a pair of tiny stubs.

Whether it was the wrathguard inside me, or my own twisted sense of humor, I couldn't say, but I suddenly let out a dark, monstrous laugh; I couldn't help myself. I must have looked like a true maniac, standing there, cackling uncontrollably as I dropped the broken pieces of her horns.

Kor'vas was anything but amused, rubbing the top of her head as if to make sure it hadn't caught fire. She had regained her footing, and now charged at me. It might have been a trick of the magic, but she now appeared to move faster than ever before, slashing at me from the left, the right, and back again. Such an attack was unavoidable, and I instead leapt above her once more as my opponent slashed at where I had once been. She sent a bolt of fel energy into the air after me, but this time I was ready for it. Stretching out my arm, I concentrated on the magics of the spell. Rather than scorch me, the felbolt now dispersed, reduced to nothing more than sheer energy, energy that I could use. It flowed into me, and I felt my strength return.

Kor'vas rushed toward me again, and I responded likewise. Our blades locked together, and I could see the hatred in her eyes, the will to survive. But there could be only one victor. And it would not be her. Consuming the magic of her spell had given me what I needed. Her eyes wide in shock, Kor'vas now found _her_ blades swinging through thin air as I became little more than a ghost, the same green aura allowing me to evade her blows. Wasting no time, I maneuvered around my opponent, and swung hard.

My twin swords danced across her exposed back, before I kicked Kor'vas to the ground, just outside the ring. She snarled in fury, and pounded the hard stone, which only made the victory that much sweeter. Above, Varedis raised his hand, signaling an end to the match.

The voice of the wrathguard had gone quiet, and I was beginning to suspect that so long as I sated its appetite for violence, it would comply with my needs. I tried not to think about when it might start demanding more than I was able to give.

Exiting the ring, I offered to help Kor'vas up, but she snarled and batted my hand away. I was struck by the sheer hatred in her eyes. But it was more than that—there was shame, and hurt, and fear. My reaction must have shown on my face, because her eyes widened in horror, as if I had seen something I shouldn't have. Then, the anger returned, and Kor'vas pushed herself up, taking a place along the far wall. I knew better than to follow her.

The next to spar were Cyana and Allari. I had to admit, my interest was piqued as I watched those two go at it. The blood elf wore no blindfold, her already fel-green eyes now replaced by even more potent energies. I knew Allari had been skilled in magic before arriving at the Black Temple, which made facing her in combat an interesting prospect. I watched as she circled around Cyana, licking her lips and grinning mischievously.

"If Vandel's consumed the heart of a felhound, and you've drank the blood of a wrathguard," remarked Kayn, "then Allari definitely has the power of a succubus at her command."

As I watched Allari toy with her opponent, I couldn't help but agree. The clever little vixen usually tended to make a mockery of her victims before dispatching them. She giggled—actually giggled—as Cyana tried in vain to land a hit, only to receive a barrage of felbolts in return. Clearly, Allari was a fighter who did not have to rely on brute force.

Not so with Cyana—on the contrary, the night elf only grew more and more frustrated as Allari literally danced around the arena. Finally, she slammed her dual hatchets down, and the ground quaked beneath the impact.

"Looks like Cyana's getting steamed again," said Jace.

Several feet away, Kor'vas frowned in obvious concern, still feeling the top of her head. She probably wished Asha was taking a beating instead. Those two were always trying to one-up each other.

Ultimately, Allari fell under Cyana's relentless strikes, the night elf delivering blow after blow with her axes, and even the blood elf's magic failed to drive back her opponent. I couldn't help but wince as Cyana viciously knocked her opponent to the ground with one final axe strike.

"I claim victory," she announced smugly.

For a moment, I thought I detected a hint of approval in Varedis' expression as he nodded at her. True, Cyana was absolutely ruthless in battle, a trait desirable in any warrior seeking to destroy demons. But it was at times like these that I wondered just how different we were from the very things we sought to destroy.

 _Not so different, you and I. Both crave power, both crave blood. Both crave death._

In spite of everything I had experienced, everything I had done, I firmly believed that there was a fine line between ruthlessness and bloodlust.

As Cyana marched triumphantly out of the training grounds, I wondered which side she was on.

And then I wondered which side _I_ was on. I was competitive, had been ever since those early days of sparring and hunting with Lena. But absorbing the wrathguard's essence had awakened something new in me, something much darker, and I thought back to the sound Kor'vas had made when I broke her horns. It hadn't been the roar of a demon, like the sound I had made, all fire and malevolent fury.

No, Kor'vas' screams had been those of an _elf_ in pain, horrifying sounds that would forever mark the day my village burned, the day my sister was taken from me.

I never wanted to hear them again.


	3. Assault on Nathreza

_Well, even without any reviews incoming, it looks like I've gotten enough people interested to put up a third chapter. Maybe it's too soon to be asking if I'm doing this right. Either way, you're reading it, you got it!_

 _Disclaimer: I claim credit only for my character Velscar, and his own experiences. I do not own World of Warcraft, which remains the property of Blizzard Entertainment. I am making no money off of this story, which is purely for entertainment purposes. Credit for almost all of this chapter belongs to William King, author of "World of Warcraft: Illidan," without which the demon hunter class would not have the rich backstory it deserves._

Chapter 3: Assault on Nathreza

The week after my 'incident' with Kor'vas, nothing had changed. I would rise from my cell and join Kayn, Jace, and Vandel as we marched to the training grounds. Kor'vas seemed to be deliberately avoiding me, though I would often see her in the company of Allari…or Asha, whenever they met in the ring. The two night elves had become genuine rivals, always testing their skills against one another, like a pair of blades fighting over the same whetstone.

It was the same routine day in and day out. No, that wasn't entirely true—something had changed in the dark war machine that was the Illidari. For the past few days, Lord Illidan's soldiers seemed to be _mobilizing_. But mobilizing where? And more importantly, why hadn't we demon hunters been made aware of this? A small army composed of every creature under Illidan's command—from the vicious fel orcs to the sinister naga—had suddenly gathered and marched forth from the gates of the Black Temple, weapons in hand and spells at the ready.

 _Yes…war. War is coming. The army gathers._

As always, the voice of the wrathguard took immense pleasure in all things military, but the way it delighted in the mysterious preparations made me wonder if it knew more than I did. Despite my growing curiosity, I dared not ask Varedis—if Lord Illidan was keeping us out of the loop, it was for good reason.

And so I busied myself with the usual training, sharpening my combat skills as much as I did my longswords. But the most important part was both personal and psychological—I focused on containing my inner demon. It seemed to grow more powerful as the days went by, as if in response to whatever mysterious military strike Lord Illidan was planning. I had come to realize that the demon inside me truly was a double-edged sword—just as it made me more powerful in combat, so too did its own influence grow.

"Something's up," said Vandel, breaking me from these dark thoughts.

"I was beginning to wonder if my demon wasn't making me paranoid," I confessed.

Nearby, Belath shook his head.

"I sense it, too. A change in the fel winds," he said, before grinning mischievously. "And I've been doing some spying of my own…without our overseers' knowledge, of course."

Like me, Belath had been a rogue in his previous life, though where I had simply stalked through the forest on hunting trips, the blood elf had served as a true spymaster for his people. It didn't surprise me that he had managed to sneak around without detection.

"And?" I prodded.

"And nothing," he replied, shrugging. "I still know as much as you do. If anyone's being paranoid, it's Lord Illidan, and he has every right to be."

Reluctantly, I nodded, trying not to let my disappointment show. We had pledged our loyalty to Lord Illidan. All we could do was keep ourselves combat-ready for when the time came.

And it came sooner than any of us expected; about halfway through the day, a loud horn sounded through the air. This was no trumpet, either—this was a call to battle. I looked around in confusion and saw the others do the same. The only one not sporting a puzzled look was Varedis. Instead, our supervisor immediately leapt down from his spot on the ledge.

"Arm yourselves and assemble in the courtyard!" he commanded. "The time has come to serve the Master!"

Glancing over at Vandel, I didn't need to look past his blindfold to see my own thoughts reflected: this was it. This was exactly what we'd been training for. Lord Illidan was finally putting us to good use. We had been pushed to the brink of death, trained beyond what would have passed for torture, and those of us who had survived were about to face the ultimate test.

Eagerly, we raced toward the barracks, our abandoned training weapons flying through the air. I snatched up my blades and looked them over carefully. The swords remained as sharp as ever, never having seen actual combat…until now. Outside in the corridor, I saw Vandel checking the runes on his daggers, before the older elf lifted that leaf-shaped amulet to his lips.

"This is it," said Asha.

"Time to see what we're made of," I agreed. "Let's not keep the Master waiting."

Varedis was already waiting in the central courtyard, along with Theras, Alandien, and Netharel.

"Form ranks!" he barked. "Prepare for battle!"

As we hurried to follow the sharp command, the air behind the four supervisors began to shimmer. A great portal opened in the air, glowing with power, and they walked backward through it.

There was no hesitation on our part, and we charged after them en masse. After so many weeks of training, I was ready for a real battle.

But the battle had ended before we'd arrived. The portal had taken us to the slopes of the volcano known as the Hand of Gul'dan. Bodies littered the filthy landscape of Shadowmoon Valley: orcs, naga, blood elves.

And there were more: night elves, draenei, even a large bear that I knew to be a druid. And all of them looked incredibly old, as if the corpses had lain there for ages. What had happened here?

The air around us hummed, glowing with potent energies. I focused on where the magic was strongest. My demon vision showed the truth: a battle had been fought here, but the bodies that even now began to rot away did so not as a result of time, but because the souls of the dead were being torn from their bodies. These souls now floated upward into a collective mass, which in turn formed the beginnings of another portal at the foot of the mountain.

I glanced over at my brothers-in-arms, saw Vandel licking his lips nervously. They could all feel it, I was sure—the potent magic of soulbinding. Part of me wanted to rush forward and take it all for myself, scoop up the dying souls and absorb their essence as easily as drinking from a moonwell. I had the power to do it.

 _Yes…feast on flesh, feast on souls. Gain their power._

Before I could take more than two steps, Varedis held up his hand, a silent command that none of us dared to disobey.

"We wait for the signal," he told us. "Any who fall out of line will fuel the Master's portal."

At the mention of Lord Illidan, I forgot all about my thirst, and scanned the landscape . A large, demonic figure loomed in the distance. He was examining a piece of discarded armor with considerable interest. No, not armor—a soldier. And not just any soldier—that was the armor of a Warden. Now I understood what all of this was about. But what were we here for? Both my demon and I trembled in anticipation.

The air continued to shimmer with power as more souls were fed into Lord Illidan's spell, and the portal materialized at long last. Lord Illidan himself now greeted us, and I immediately stood at attention, everyone around me quickly doing the same. The Master swept his gaze over us as if assessing our value. We wouldn't move a muscle unless commanded—had Lord Illidan decided to strike us down at that very moment, none would have lifted a hand in their own defense. Finally, the great being nodded, and raised his hand into the air. As those mighty wings stretched out to their full height, Illidan flew into the air and landed before the portal. With a roar that thundered across the landscape, he beckoned us forward, before vanishing through the gateway.

That was all the invitation anyone needed, and I wasted no time in following the Master across time and space. I began to salivate as the stench of demons arose—this world was full of them. We had emerged onto a vast cliff, where Illidan immediately motioned for us to wait. The Master wove a great spell of shadow magic, one I recognized from my time as a rogue. It would keep us hidden from whatever dark beings waited below. Vandel shivered in anticipation. Needle examined his deadly namesakes. Belath's glowing green eyes narrowed as he assessed the situation below. Kor'vas looked absolutely terrified, as if she couldn't decide whether to run or fight.

 _Fight…fight…kill…kill!_

I curled my hands into fists, trying to silence the demonic chanting in my head. As I felt the claws cut into my palms, the voice subsided. A minor offering of blood…for now.

While not nearly as skillful at scouting as Belath, now I could at least see why we were here on this dark wasteland. Far below the ledge where we hid, an army of demons gathered. Imps, succubi, doomguard…and nathrezim. And still so many more. This was indeed a Legion world. Lord Illidan truly intended to test his chosen warriors against the enemy of all life. I vowed not to disappoint him.

A barrage of foul laughter rang out, and for a moment I thought it was the voice inside my head, or that one of my fellow hunters had gotten too excited and risked blowing our cover. Instead, I realized that the demons far below truly believed that Illidan stood against them alone. Now I did my best not to snicker at the sheer arrogance of our enemy. They lacked the ability to sense us, and were firmly convinced that theirs was the superior army.

 _We_ are _superior…we have destroyed world after world. You are nothing!_

Rather than ignore it this time, I took the demon's claim as a challenge. Nothing? In a few moments, we would see just how much destruction an army of nothings could wreak upon these 'superior' beings. And as I continued to think about all the terrible, twisted things I would do to the army below, even my own demon seemed to quiver in fear.

"Yes…not so confident now, are you?" I whispered. "I will happily match your bloodlust a thousand times over."

As if in response to this, I suddenly heard a great voice of power thunder in my head, but it wasn't a demon…or at least, it wasn't the wrathguard.

It was Illidan, and he spoke just one word: _Now._

Somehow, I knew every single one of us had heard the unspoken command, and all hell broke loose as we burst forth from our hiding place with savage delight. The demons of the Burning Legion actually halted in surprise, even fear, as we bore down on them.

It made the ensuing slaughter that much sweeter.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Vandel dispatch felhounds and mo'arg. A few feet away, Allari drained the power from a succubus, before sending a barrage of felbolts at a swarm of imps. Kor'vas seemed to have overcome her fear, and now drove her blades through demons with wild abandon.

I did the same, cleaving through imps and felhounds and doomguard. The voice of the wrathguard had finally gone silent as I now hacked the limbs off the real thing. Something sharp and leather stung my wrist, and I turned to see a succubus grinning wickedly as her whip coiled around my right arm. I grinned back, pulling hard. The feisty demon's expression quickly turned to that of fear as I drove my sword through her heart.

A shivarra now descended upon me, the giant demon clearly thinking me outmatched. That was her mistake, and as she brought all six arms crashing down, I quickly dove between her legs, leapt onto her back, and cleaved her head off from behind.

Riding the headless demon as it crashed to the ground, I looked up to see Illidan watching us. The Master had taken no part in the battle, but simply observed our progress. This was a test after all. Well, that was just fine. For the first time, my demon and I were in perfect harmony.

 _Yes…yes! You must kill! You want to kill! You want to slay and slay and slay…_

"…and slay and slay and slay!" I chanted, dodging around the hoof of a doomguard, before cutting off the muscled leg altogether. As the great demon tumbled to the ground, green flames suddenly erupted before me, filling my vision. I kept on cutting. I couldn't stop. I didn't want to stop. I just wanted to slay and slay and slay…

"…and slay and slay and slay and slay…"

"Enough!"

A strong force picked me up, and I felt myself flying through the air before I hit the ground hard. I growled monstrously, but immediately stopped as I took in the sight of my fallen opponent. The doomguard had been completely _butchered_ , to the point where the demon's remains were unrecognizable, even painful to look at. Its thick, green blood pooled on the filthy soil.

I would never feel a shred of pity for any of these monsters. But looking at the demon's mutilated carcass, I couldn't help but shudder. What I had done went far beyond mere demon-slaying—this kind of brutality was akin to the horrors inflicted by the Legion itself. I looked over at where Needle sat atop the corpse of a felguard. Even the most perverse of us remained in control of his actions.

Not I. The demon within had taken over, and I had let it. As one of the newer recruits died under a felguard's axe, I saw myself landing the killing blow. The demoncontinued carving into the elf's corpse long after her death. I felt grateful when Varedis finally cleaved it in two.

Illidan stood nearby, his arms crossed as he loomed over me.

"I am in control," I told him.

The Master nodded, though I couldn't tell whether or not he believed me. His expression was unreadable, as always.

"There is a time and place for such viciousness," he said, "but it is not here. We move on."

As a series of towers came into view, I felt disgusted with myself. In giving up control, I had failed the master. I had failed myself.

The wrathguard inside me hadn't said a word this whole time. It was just…gone, completely. Thinking back to my lapse in control, I stumbled, almost falling to the ground as the truth finally hit me.

There was no demon, and there never had been. It was all me— _I_ was the demon. I wasn't sure whether to feel terrified or liberated by the sudden revelation.

I knew one thing, though: if I was going to continue slaying demons, it had to be on _my_ terms. Otherwise, I risked becoming the very thing I sought to destroy.

"You've gone quiet on me," said Vandel.

"Odd place for contemplation, I know," I replied.

"Some truths can only be discovered in the heat of battle," he said neutrally.

Frowning, I wondered if the older elf had come to a similar realization. For some reason, this made me look toward Kor'vas, who now seemed perfectly at ease as she strolled alongside Allari. But was this the real Kor'vas, or had she succumbed to her hate, as I had?

I shook my head and tried to steel my mind as Illidan led us to one tower in particular. Here we were, in the very heart of Legion territory, and I was having an identity crisis. Ridiculous. Such things could wait until we returned to the Black Temple, if we survived at all.

The four felguard died easily beneath our blades, and the Master pointed at the base of the tower. The enchantments around the tower had replaced the doorway with solid rock.

"Blast it!" he yelled.

Raising my hands, I copied the movements of my allies, and a great mass of felbolts shot out at the tower. Still it held.

"Concentrate on one area!"

Together, we obeyed the master, and our many felbolts now combined into one massive blast that obliterated the center of the tower's base. This, too, was another test, for on command the Illidari had gone from individual killers to a single organism. I doubted any of the Legion's forces worked so well together.

Our combined assault succeeded in drilling through the rock, and we followed Illidan down the ramp that had been revealed. A large, circular chamber greeted us, and for a moment I thought the Legion had been harvesting dragon scales. Then I realized that the tall stacks of blackened coins were actually disks of some kind. I could sense the knowledge contained within each, and knew this had to be some kind of archive.

After removing the head of a mo'arg that leapt out from the darkness, Illidan turned to us.

"Do not enter," he commanded. "Hold this doorway, no matter what happens in the next five minutes."

Varedis nodded, and led us back up the ramp outside. I smirked, recalling the four meager felguard. There remained enough of us to form a protective circle around the tower, the bulk of our forces standing guard over the entrance itself.

"Five minutes," I muttered. "Whatever happens, I will not fail again. I will not disappoint the Master."

Five minutes began to feel like an eternity, but we soon had better things to do than simply wait. By now the demons were fully aware that their world had been invaded. Just as we encircled the tower, so too did portals now surround us, each spewing forth a squad of the Legion's forces.

Once again I entered the fray, focusing on slaying as many demons as possible, even as I struggled not to go over the edge like before. If combat was like a dance, then maintaining a balance between efficiency and bloodlust was an even more delicate art. I was not like these creatures—I was better than them. I had sacrificed many things to become a demon hunter, but my soul was not one of them. To give in to the slaughter would mean granting the demons victory.

Vandel fought at my side, driving his daggers into a felguard before vaulting over the demon and slicing through the doomguard behind it. Nearby, Elarisiel slashed at the leg of a dreadlord, driving her blade all the way up its heavy frame to impale the demon's black heart. Needle threw his tiny projectiles at a succubus with all the dexterity of a master, causing the once-seductive demon to better resemble a pincushion by the time she died.

Eventually, the battle forced me further and further back, until I felt someone else behind me. It was Kor'vas, and as she parried a felguard's blow, I realized that her earlier confidence had indeed been an act. The night elf fought and killed with an unmatched ferocity, but she was afraid. I could sense the fear dripping off her like blood, and yet it was impossible to tell just by looking. The way Kor'vas channeled her fear was remarkable: she spat in the face of a doomguard before dismembering the larger fighter, then turned as an imp leapt toward her.

"Mmm!" squealed the demon. "Tasty meats for me to—aaaaahhhhh!"

I looked back again as the demon's cry cut off, just in time to see Kor'vas kick it away like a child would a ball. The tiny demon flew shrieking over the tangled mess of combat and broken bodies. I couldn't help but laugh.

Then, it was time to go. Lord Illidan announced the end of our mission by way of landing atop a dreadlord and raising its head high after decapitating the fiend.

"To me, my soldiers!" He roared, tossing the demonic head into the fray. "It is time to leave this foul place. We have gotten what we came for."

So saying, the Master's eyes glowed, and a beam of fel shot out, incinerating an entire line of demons in our path. The message was clear, and we surged through the opening in the Legion's army before it could close in on us. With Illidan flying above, we raced to the portal that would lead us home. The demons swarmed in on all sides, intent on taking down as many of us as possible.

"Varedis, take a company and clear those ridges!" yelled our master.

Our overseer nodded, pointing at me and a select few others before climbing the harsh slopes. Jace, Belath, Asha, and Cyana joined me. Unless we took out the demons on the ledges above, Lord Illidan and the rest of our allies would be slaughtered just as easily as we had taken out the Legion's initial forces.

They were primarily spell-casters or range-based demons, imps and mo'arg firing down on our army from above, with only a few nathrezim casting shadow bolts. It was all too easy to flank them from behind, and I eagerly mimicked Kor'vas' earlier move, kicking more than a few imps off the high ledge, where they fell screaming into the chaotic melee far below. Cyana roared in manic glee as her blades cut into the mo'arg's fel engine packs, causing the demons' weapons to explode and taking the Legion's engineers with them. Belath and Jace tag-teamed a dreadlord as I did the same with Asha. Varedis needed no such help, dispatching the last of the nathrezim singlehandedly.

Finally, the ledge was clear and the Illidari were ready to come home. Looking down at our approaching allies as they cut through the last of the opposition, I saw Vandel helping Elarisiel from where she had fallen. Not all elves could be saved, however, and prisoners of the Legion often prayed for death. I knew Illidan was showing his people mercy by killing those of us too weak to move. We'd taken quite a few losses, but the Legion had suffered many more.

As the rest of my company began to draw back toward the portal, I remained on the ledge, scanning the valley far below. Something was wrong—I could still sense a faint life force out there somewhere among the dead. The wasteland rose up before me as my spectral sight took over.

"Damn…" I muttered.

In that moment, I made what was perhaps the stupidest, most suicidal choice of my life. Leaping out from the ledge, I flew toward the approaching demons. In the rapidly-closing gap between the two armies, a single figure struggled to rise, even as our enemies bore down on her.

"What are you doing, you stupid clod?" screamed Kor'vas.

"Oh, shut up!" I snarled, grabbing her roughly and throwing the elf over my shoulder. "You can kill me later."

Pushing my fel energies to their fullest, I rushed back to the ledge, resisting the urge to look back. My muscles burned with exhaustion, but I refused to stop. Instead I focused on drowning out the enraged roaring behind us as the demons drew ever nearer. The rest of our allies had already retreated through the portal, and Illidan was scanning the battlefield one last time. As we came into view, he raised a single eyebrow, nodded, and gestured at the portal. I didn't have time to question his response; the full might of this world was rapidly closing in on us. Tightening my grip on Kor'vas, I bounded through the portal.

As we hit the filthy, soot-stained ground of Shadowmoon Valley, I felt an immense explosion of energy. The portal was shrinking, closing in on itself and devouring the matter around it. All the energies that had gone into tearing a hole in the very fabric of reality now worked against the Legion's world. So many times, the demons had done the same while invading Azeroth, corrupting forests with fel magic or marring the landscape like where the Dark Portal had been.

I could appreciate the irony.

As the portal faded from existence and our excitement gave way to exhaustion, I looked around at the faces of my comrades. The reality of what we had done was finally beginning to set it. The feeling of triumph was made all the more real as Lord Illidan loomed over us from a mound of earth at the foot of the mountain.

"Today we have struck a blow against the Burning Legion the like of which has not been felt in ten thousand years," he proclaimed. "We have slaughtered dreadlords and ravaged their world. We have shown them that they are not immune to our vengeance. That they will be brought to justice and made to atone for their deeds. We have slain thousands and lured their armies into a trap that killed a hundred times that number, and we have this!"

Anyone not blessed with knowledge of the arcane or eyes of demonic fire would have been extremely disappointed, for Lord Illidan now held one of the small black disks aloft. But we could all feel the potent energies running through it, sense the power contained within the tiny object. I knew the disk was a worthy prize, even if its exact purpose eluded me.

"We have found the key to the homeworld of Kil'jaeden and Archimonde, to a place where the Legion's commanders can be finally slain. We have uncovered the location of Argus."

A wave of awe swept over our army as the Master's words took hold. Few of us had ever heard of Argus, but we knew that the draenei were not originally from this world, and every demon hunter was well-acquainted with the lords of the Burning Legion. If the disk did what Illidan claimed, it was a worthy prize indeed.

"The Legion has destroyed world after world, enslaved and massacred nation after nation. Now it will reap what it has sown. Today we have slaughtered the nathrezim, and that is only the first step. Today we put our feet on the path to ultimate victory. Today we found the means to cut off the head that guides our foe. We are taking the war to Kil'jaeden. We are going to teach him the meaning of defeat."

And as the soldiers of the Illidari finally broke into an unrestrained roar of triumph, I reached down and offered to help Kor'vas up.

She accepted.


	4. The Meaning of Sacrifice

_Well, the numbers keep pouring in, which hopefully means someone's reading my story! And as long as you guys keep reading, I'll keep writing! One point I should address: this is not a "copy-and paste" story, for those of you who might be thinking, "I could just as easily play the game or read the novel if I wanted to know the plot." Yes, a good chunk of "A Demon's Tale" will be taken directly from the established lore, especially because the story will cover the Demon Hunter's starting areas. However, I can promise you that it will really start to branch out once we hit the Broken Isles…but that's getting ahead of ourselves. For now…_

 _Disclaimer: I do not own World of Warcraft, which remains the property of Blizzard Entertainment. I make no money from this story, which is exclusively for non-profit, entertainment purposes._

Chapter 4: The Meaning of Sacrifice

In the weeks following our fateful mission to Nathreza, things got steadily worse. Now that I knew there was no demon, it was as if the rest of my mind had suddenly stopped trying to pretend. The knowledge that the voice inside my head had been nothing more than a coping mechanism did more harm than good. I could slay physical demons, and I could pacify or purge the mental ones. But how does one wage war against themselves?

I had often seen Lord Illidan stalking in the direction of his council chamber, which in turn led to the courtyard at the top of the Black Temple. No one was allowed up there, not even us demon hunters. Rumors abounded that the Master conducted special rituals of meditation, which none must disturb. While my knowledge of such magic was limited at best, I began trying to emulate the Master as much as possible.

This was how Kor'vas found me the day we would embark on yet another fateful mission: seated on my bed, legs crossed, my long, dark hair tied back. Meditation was yet another double-edged sword. Now that I knew my enemy's true identity, the phantom voices no longer echoed throughout my mind. But somehow, the silence was even more unnerving. It was like searching through a black hole for some final glimmer of starlight, only to be swallowed up, nothing remaining but a gaping void of despair.

"You're not interrupting anything, in case you were wondering," I told her.

"So the meditation isn't helping?" she asked, leaning against the doorway.

"Each time is as pointless as the last," I sighed, finally giving up and leaping to the floor. "Why are you here, Kor'vas?"

"Lord Illidan has another mission for us."

I didn't need to use my spectral sight to know she was worried about me…or harboring the same doubts that I was. The fear that had manifested itself on Nathreza was back, and it rolled off Kor'vas in waves of terror.

"Then we mustn't keep the Master waiting," I replied, leading the way to the central courtyard.

As I suspected, a large stone doorway awaited us, indicating another portal in the making. Kor'vas and I quickly fell in line as the other demon hunters began to assemble.

Lord Illidan loomed over us from the courtyard wall. He didn't speak, but instead glanced down at where two large crates flanked the empty gateway. As we approached, I could see that one was completely empty.

The other held dozens of what were then the most deadly-looking weapons I had ever encountered. I knew them by their shape, of course—the Sentinels included warglaives as part of their arsenal, and everyone knew of Lord Illidan's famous blades. But these weapons glowed with the bright green aura of fel, the blades deliberately curved and sharpened to maximize their killing potential. In the center of each handguard, the symbol of the Illidari shined proudly.

Understanding what was expected, I unsheathed my longswords and gently placed them in the empty crate, which was soon filled with the swords, daggers, and battleaxes of my comrades. I knew that it was silly to become attached to a weapon, but I still hoped that whatever soldier wielded my blades in the future would treat them with care.

It was symbolic, in a sense—our mission to Nathreza had been yet another step in distinguishing the most elite of Illidan's forces. We had invaded the Legion's world, slain _their_ commanders and lieutenants. Now Lord Illidan was recognizing our potential with weapons truly befitting a hunter of demons.

With the last of us properly equipped, we fell back into position and silently awaited the Master's command.

"The enemy came into our world," he began, "their only desire to extinguish all life. They slaughtered our loved ones. They razed our homes, our cities, and our sacred places."

I could feel our combined anger as each demon hunter recognized the truth of Illidan's words. Above, a storm had begun to brew in Shadowmoon Valley: thunder boomed with unnatural ferocity as fel-tinged lightning struck the distant landscape. Rain that burned like acid poured down on us.

"You tried to stop them, and you failed. And so, you came to me, nothing remaining of you but rage and determination. And you learned that the things that once tormented you could give you _power_. Now you see that there is no sacrifice too great if it brings an end to the Burning Legion."

With these words, Illidan stood, raised his hands into the air, and began to channel fel energy. The magic shot down at the gateway, and the empty space flared to life, the makings of a new world suddenly appearing from nothingness.

 _Yes_ , I thought, _vengeance. Vengeance is what I seek. And Lord Illidan shall give it to me._

With each second, my desire to tear into demon flesh grew, but a part of me continued to scream out in protest.

It was Kor'vas who gave voice to my conflicted thoughts, and I watched in surprise as she broke through the crowd to kneel at the Master's feet. The fear that had once clung to her like a cloak now broke through and washed over her like a tidal wave.

"But Lord Illidan!" she protested desperately. "Demonic energies course through our veins! They gnaw at our every thought! What makes us any different from the monsters we fight!?"

The other Illidari waited in stunned silence. None had ever dared to speak out so boldly, and Lord Illidan was not known to reward hesitation or disloyalty. Even so, it was a question that had tormented me for months. I had to believe that I wasn't the only one seeking the answer.

Kayn apparently disagreed, and the proud blood elf now stepped forward, levelling his new warglaive at Kor'vas' exposed throat.

"You question the Master!?" he demanded.

Kor'vas didn't flinch, but neither did Kayn administer the killing blow. Both waited in silence for the Master's judgment. We could feel the tension burning through the air, as dangerous as the fel magic that gave us strength.

Illidan now stood, and swept his unseeing eyes over all of us. None escaped the Master's gaze; once again we were reminded how easily he could dispatch us, if he so chose. A stray bolt of fel lightning illuminated the Master as he spread his wings, becoming the very image of a god. He now leapt down to land directly before the one who had spoken out. The Master's power could be felt by all, and I held my breath, waiting for Kor'vas to receive her punishment. Would Lord Illidan make an example of her himself, or would he allow Kayn to perform the deed?

What happened next surprised us all: looming over the still-kneeling elf, Lord Illidan leaned closer, peering intently as if judging Kor'vas by her very soul. After what felt like hours, he finally drew back and again stared out at the rows of assembled demon hunters.

"We will not sit idly by like those on Azeroth, waiting to become the demons' prey!" he roared. "We will take this war to the _Legion's_ worlds, and _prey upon them!_ "

The Master's words thundered through the courtyard, and demon hunters on every side now swarmed through the portal. After a quick glance at each other, Kor'vas and I joined them. We would find our answers one day, but for now, the will of the Master took priority over all else.

The world we invaded was lifeless and barren. At first, I wondered if Illidan hadn't sent us to another part of Outland. The only sign that sentient beings had once populated this dead planet came in the form of a massive citadel, or at least the remains of one. The ruined structure better resembled the top of a tower that had been sheared off and stuck in the ground.

Destruction had come to this world, and its name was Legion.

As the Illidari marched toward the citadel, I thought of Lord Illidan's victory over Magtheridon. If the Legion was in the habit of leaving behind powerful commanders to protect its territory, I didn't want to think about what dwelled inside.

For now, I focused on taking out the meager felguard that had been posted at the entrance. Here we saw our new weapons fulfill their ultimate potential. Allari warped behind one of the demons and sliced through its midsection. As the two halves rolled down the now blood-soaked stairs, Kayn launched his own attack, tackling the next felguard and pinning it to the ground. The blood elf's warglaives came crashing down on the demon's face. Lord Illidan himself dispatched yet another enemy by actually throwing his famous warglaive. The deadly projectile decapitated the last of the felguard as it sailed back through the air to its master's hand.

As the Illidari burst through the doors of the citadel, I let out a curse as we confronted this world's demonic governor.

"Ah…demon hunters," rumbled the beast. "You dare attack the Doom Lord Azgoth in his own domain!?"

The Legion had indeed left behind a pit lord to stand guard over its conquests. The reality of the monster that now stared down at us defied anything I had heard from Varedis. Its four massive limbs could have easily been the stone pillars that lined the room, and the demon himself was larger than an entire house. Crooked teeth twisted into a horrifying grin as the Legion's commander glared down at us.

And he was not alone; more demons now spilled into the room. As the Illidari met them in combat, Lord Illidan flew into the air to do battle with Azgoth himself.

I ducked under a felguard's swing, catching the demon's blow with one warglaive and slicing open its chest with the other. Cyana gleefully hacked into a wrathguard with both her weapons, while Jace raised his glowing blades and sent out felbolt after felbolt. Asha crossed her blades to catch a doomguard's axe, then pulled them apart, shattering the mighty weapon before doing the same to the demon. Kor'vas slew a felguard with both glaives, then parried a blow from the next demon and delivered a vicious counter. Here, in the heat of battle, I could feel her icy terror becoming a raging inferno as she fought relentlessly to survive.

I was the same—desperation drove me to slay every demon I could find. I had to live through this—I _needed_ to hear the answer to her question. I was not like these monsters. I couldn't be.

Had there been time to stop and think about it, I would have considered the situation ironic: I was fighting for survival not so that I could continue slaying demons, but so that I could hold on to…whatever it was that made me an elf. Did any of me remain inside this new creature, this thing that sought to devour demon flesh and dreamed of nothing but endless slaughter?

I had to find out, and to do that, I had to survive any way I could.

Above, Lord Illidan did battle with the seemingly-unstoppable pit lord, cutting down the felbats the beast sent after him and retaliating with blasts of demonic energy. The beams scorched Azgoth's monstrous bulk, but this only tempted the pit lord's wrath. The mighty demon cackled madly, brandishing a massive flail. Chains rattled in the air as the nasty-looking weapon knocked Lord Illidan from the air, like a grown elf swatting at a bothersome fly.

My immediate response was to defend the Master, and I began to cut my way toward where Lord Illidan had fallen. Demon after demon fell to my blades as I carved a path through Azgoth's army. Still more felguard leapt into my path, and I roared in fury. For every demon I slew, three more seemed to take its place. Even with Vandel and Asha at my side, we would never make it in time.

Fortunately, I was not the only one who had watched the Master fall. Kor'vas was closer to the mountain of ruined stone that had once been a series of pillars. But as Lord Illidan began digging himself out of the debris, Azgoth raised his mighty flail once more.

"Your mission has failed," cackled the pit lord. "Your cause dies with him!"

Moments before the vicious, spiked implement would have shattered the Master's skull, Kor'vas brought her warglaive crashing down on the chains that bound the pit lord's weapon. The powerful metal links shattered into pieces, and the end of the flail went flying far from its intended victim.

Azgoth roared and delivered a vicious swipe that sent Kor'vas flying. She hit the stone wall hard, and the pit lord leaned in close, preventing his target from escaping. The monstrous demon sniffed the air and spewed his foul breath in her face. I felt renewed hatred for the Legion as I watched Kor'vas turn away in disgust.

"You smell more of demon than hunter," rumbled Azgoth. "You would serve us well."

At that moment, I wouldn't have blamed Kor'vas for accepting the demon's offer. Her master was injured, her mind was already mired in doubt, and hell itself stared her in the face. Her mind should have shattered then and there. I know mine would have.

Instead, the fear that had followed her for so long simply melted away, as if it had never been there to begin with. Kor'vas met the demon's stare with one of her own, glaring back at Azgoth with a look of hatred and defiance.

"Never," she hissed.

I tore my eyes away to where a shadow flew along the wall. It was Illidan, and our Master now plunged his glaives into the Legion's commander as the last of the demonic minions fell before our might. The pit lord's powerful flesh began to crack apart, and with one last roar, Azgoth the Doom Lord died in a massive explosion of fel energy.

Lord Illidan stood, picking up Kor'vas' fallen glaive as he did so.

"You wish to know the difference between the demons and us?" he asked her. "They will stop at _nothing_ to destroy our world."

"And we will sacrifice _everything_ to save it," she answered.

I gaped as Lord Illidan actually cracked a smile, before handing Kor'vas her warglaive. He looked… _satisfied_. I knew I hadn't been imagining things—the Master had seen something in Kor'vas, and he had marked her as being special, even among the Illidari.

Then, he turned toward the rest of us, and we immediately stood at attention.

"The Legion will know of this victory," he announced. "And they _will_ fear you, my Illidari. Now… _you are prepared!_ "

As Lord Illidan raised his warglaives into the air and led the Illidari in their victory cry, I looked over at Kor'vas. Physically, she was in pretty bad shape: glowing green blood ran down the side of her face from a long gash in her forehead, and her lower lip had also been split open.

But as the courageous demon hunter raised her fist in triumph, I thought she had never looked more beautiful.


	5. By My Side

_Hey readers, sorry I've been a little absent, but I'm glad to see that plenty of people are still interested in this story! To make it up to you, how about I give you not one, but_ two _new chapters for your reading pleasure? Sound good? Great! And I'd like to give shout-outs to acherus01 and SpiffyLeaf for their reviews! Thanks a ton, and I'm glad you guys like the story! Well readers, you want more? Here it is!_

 _Disclaimer: I do not own World of Warcraft, which remains the property of Blizzard Entertainment. I make no money from this story, which is purely for entertainment purposes._

Chapter 5: By My Side

Even after Kor'vas' victory, I still had my own fears to deal with. There were nights I would wake up screaming after having slaughtered a village full of kaldorei. And the only outlet for this imaginary violence was its real-life counterpart; I would beat against the wall like a trapped animal, run my claws over my own flesh, eager to feel pain. Better that than to feel nothing at all.

And yet, I had also become lucid enough to know that this was nothing compared to what I had endured in the beginning. The nightmares and false visions continued to torment me, but they were becoming easier to endure, the pain far less potent. Somehow, I was getting better.

It wasn't until I saw Kor'vas practicing in the courtyard that I realized why. As if in response, the fear began slipping away, like a demon repelled by the Light.

How was that possible? We had undergone the same hellish ritual. Even had she been a Priestess of the Moon in her previous life, Kor'vas should not have been able to repel demons or soothe mental anguish. And yet as I sat on the edge of the Black Temple's outer wall, staring out at the decimated landscape of Shadowmoon Valley, I could think of no other explanation.

It was a moment of clarity, followed immediately by another. I had never forgotten Lena, for my older sister had come to symbolize my very purpose: vengeance against the Burning Legion. But somewhere along the way, I knew I had lost the very best parts of myself, the parts that had made me Lena's brother.

Or so I thought. Again I summoned up the image of Kor'vas, thinking of her courage in questioning Lord Illidan and staring down Azgoth.

The effect was instantaneous. It was like there was a door deep inside me, one that I had kept shut for so long I forgot it ever existed. Now the door was cracking open, and I began to feel truly _good_ for the first time in years.

"Allari said you wanted to see me."

"I bet Allari told everyone I wanted to see you," I snorted.

"Probably," she agreed, sitting down next to me. "Remember when she mixed dreaming glory into the fel orcs' brew barrel?"

"And then proceeded to move them, one by one, all the way into the Grand Promenade after also drugging the succubi in the Den," I recalled.

"I don't think I've ever seen an orc run so fast from an elf," she snickered. "Once the Council showed up…"

At the image of the Illidari Council finding the very carefully-arranged pile of sleeping orcs, succubi, and blood elves, we both erupted into unrestrained laughter. I didn't care that we now sounded like a pair of cackling demons. I hadn't been able to truly laugh like that in a long time.

"At first I thought Allari had absorbed a succubus," I recalled. "Now I think she devoured an imp."

"Oh no, that was all her," said Kor'vas. "Apparently, she had the reputation for being quite 'playful' back in Eversong, according to Belath."

"You talk to her a lot about…life before?" I asked.

"Now and again," she replied. "We all had lives before. None of them ended well, or we wouldn't be here. Why?"

"Because…" I said, taking a deep breath. "I want to tell you a story."

And I told her everything about the day my village burned, and how Lena had been lost. About how I had never known for sure if my sister's body had been among the unrecognizable husks buried in the charred wreckage of our home. About my own hatred of the Archdruid for summoning his followers away from Darkshore.

"And then I heard the rumors," I continued, "that the Archdruid's brother had once again earned the name "Betrayer," and been banished from our lands. I immediately travelled to Felwood—the destruction left behind from Illidan's battle with the demons was like a trail of breadcrumbs. But as Lena had always reminded me, I was slow for a nightstalker. It took me a year to reach the coast near Nendis. By that time, Illidan had already departed for the sea, and he had taken all the boats with him."

I sighed, clenching my fists.

"I must have spent days just standing there, staring out at the ocean," I recalled. "Trying to think of some way to catch up to the Betrayer. And then I received word that the Archdruid and the High Priestess were departing for the sea."

"You knew it was no coincidence," guessed Kor'vas.

"I volunteered to join the Archdruid on his mission to rescue Warden Shadowsong, told him about how I had no family and wanted only to fight the Legion."

"So he let you go with them, to the Broken Isles?" she asked.

I now laughed bitterly, recalling one of the lowest points in my life.

"He refused," I snarled. "Said 'my soul was in conflict,' and the High Priestess agreed. She even suggested I go pray at the temple, said the goddess would help me find peace. I had never felt so powerless."

"Because you didn't want to go out to sea to defeat Illidan," said Kor'vas. "You wanted to go join him."

"Obviously, I did the exact opposite of what our 'leaders' told me," I recalled, smiling grimly. "Instead I haunted the wilds, trying to hone my skills. I wanted to be stronger than the weak little elf who had lost his sister and his village in a single day. I travelled all throughout Darkshore and back into the Felwood. After being refused by the Archdruid, all I had to go on was rage and hatred. Any demons left behind by Illidan's initial assault answered to me."

I paused, glancing over at Kor'vas. I should have known better than to worry about frightening her, but I still wanted to know what she thought.

"And then what happened?" she asked, looking at me in concern.

"I spent three years moving throughout the kaldorei lands," I continued, "fighting demons where I found them, living on whatever sustained me, and very loudly cursing the druids and their master. And in one of the greatest ironies of the universe, I found myself back at the ruins of Nendis, staring out at the sea. Three years…to come right back where I started."

I let my gaze roam over the endless hills of dead, tainted earth. The vast wasteland became an ocean as my memories took hold.

"At that moment, I seriously considered swimming out as far as I could," I told her. "I knew I'd never make it, and that was the point. I just wanted it all to end. Then I heard a voice behind me, and it was coming from a hole in the air."

"The portal," she said. "Lord Illidan must have sent them out all across Azeroth."

"Ironically, he saved me…by allowing me to channel the very worst parts of myself," I explained, before realizing how much I had told her. "I'm sorry…I shouldn't be burdening you with—"

"I'm glad you told me," said Kor'vas, "But you know…I'm still a little miffed about you burning away my horns."

I turned to see her grinning mischievously.

"Hey, you stuck your horns into my eyes," I replied, smiling back. "Even for a demon hunter, that's fighting dirty."

Kor'vas stuck her tongue out in response, before dropping the playful expression. Now it was her turn to be serious.

"I should explain…everything," she said. "I know it's been…weird between us."

"Like you said, we've all had messed-up lives," I replied.

I wanted to give her a way out, if she needed it. But Kor'vas didn't take the bait.

"My town was deep within the woods of Ashenvale," she began. "I guess you could call me a 'city girl,' or as close to one as a night elf could get. It was one of the larger settlements prior to the building of Darnassus."

"Which made it a prime target for the Legion," I added, frowning.

Kor'vas nodded. "I knew only a little magic at the time, but it was enough," she continued. "The infernals didn't notice me as they crushed the building that had been my home. Even the felhounds paid me no mind as they feasted on the bodies of my parents. But I was never strong enough to seek revenge like you did. By the time the priestesses found me, I was a shivering wreck. I could barely form a complete sentence—all I could think about was what had happened to my parents. I was...weak."

"You're wrong," I told her.

Kor'vas looked at me in surprise and anger, and I hurried to explain myself.

"What I did wasn't strength," I said, "and you weren't weak. I lost myself in the years after Lena was killed. My only reason for existence was to kill wild demons. By the time Illidan found me, I was seriously contemplating _suicide_. Seeking vengeance like I did wasn't strength. _That_ was weakness."

"Well, the priestesses brought me to the temple, like so many other orphans," she continued, "and I did try to fit in there. A year later, the day came when the High Priestess left to go find the Betrayer. It felt like an eternity waiting for her to come back, and as I prayed with the other orphans, there were more stories about Illidan than ever: about how strong the Archdruid's brother was, about how he had single-handedly slain an entire forest full of demons. And for the next three years, I studied even harder and prayed to Elune even more often. But the goddess never answered. Something was always missing, like a gaping void inside. And all I could think about was the kind of strength that Illidan supposedly had, the kind of strength I wish I'd had when my parents died."

"And then he summoned you here," I finished.

"Yes, that's my story," said Kor'vas, "but there's more to it than that. Do you remember that day we sparred together?"

"I thought I had you beat," I recalled.

"And all I could think about was that day. I felt powerless all over again. I had been defeated again, and my parents would have been disappointed at my failure. And then…"

"You lost control," I realized.

It took me a moment to process, even after I had spoken the words aloud. _Kor'vas_ had lost control? Aside from Vandel, she had to be one of the sanest elves in the Illidari. I knew that my own demon had surfaced that day, but not once did I consider that Kor'vas had faced similar torment.

"Before I knew what had happened, you were screaming in pain, and then you were blasting me with fire from your eyes," she explained. "It was like being in a trance—I just knew that I _couldn't_ lose again, that I _had_ to be stronger than anyone else. And then suddenly, my horns were gone, and it was like I had lost a piece of myself. But then what did that mean, if I was growing attached to something that belonged to a _demon_?"

"You didn't know if your parents, the very people you wanted to avenge, would approve of what you had become," I said, knowing exactly how she felt. "I ask myself that every day. Lena had always been stronger, faster. But she died, while I still live. Would she even recognize her little brother? Or am I no different than the monsters that killed her?"

"And then we went on our latest mission…" said Kor'vas.

"And you found your answers," I finished. "But until then, you were terrified of your demon, weren't you? I could feel it on Nathreza—the way you channeled it in combat. But you were still afraid all the time."

Kor'vas' eyes widened as if I had seen straight through her—and I guess I had.

"I told you, my path wasn't strength," I reminded her. "I lost myself in hate and bloodlust. You endured the same torturous ritual that made me what I am, and you came out stronger than I ever could."

"You really are an idiot," she replied in disbelief. "Or you're lying, or…"

"Kor'vas Bloodthorn, you are one of the bravest people I have ever known," I told her. "In front of every demon hunter out there, you marched forward and questioned the Master openly, knowing that it could have meant your death. _You_. No one else. Cornered by a pit lord, you stared down hell itself, and refused to join an army that has destroyed entire _planets_."

I sighed, turning my face away as I tried to find the right words.

"What you did, _that's_ what strength looks like," I told her. "I'm a coward at heart, always have been. I followed Illidan because giving in to hatred is easy. I wasn't strong enough to endure it like you did. That's why I called on you. Because I'm not strong, Kor'vas. I _can't_ do this alone."

I'm not sure what I expected her to say, but I felt myself tense as Kor'vas slipped her fingers in between mine. She surprised me further by drawing closer, resting her head on my shoulder and wrapping her other arm around me protectively.

"You're not alone," she told me.

For a while, neither of us spoke. We just sat there together on the wall, staring out at the hellish world we had sought in our quest for vengeance.

"You know something funny?" I asked her. "If I had taken the High Priestess' advice, we would have met a long time ago."

Kor'vas laughed beside me.

"Better late than never," she replied.

I couldn't remember the last time I had been this open with another person. I had been on my own for so long that having Kor'vas there was like finally waking from a nightmare. Only now did I realize how close I had been to self-destruction. Even the strongest elf would break under the strain of what we had been through, if he tried to walk this road alone. But maybe together, we could survive it all.

If only I had known then that time was running out.

For all of us.


	6. The Rise of Kruul

_Disclaimer: I do not own World of Warcraft, which remains the property of Blizzard Entertainment. I make no money from this story, which is purely for entertainment purposes. Credit for this chapter belongs to William King, author of "World of Warcraft: Illidan."_

Chapter 6: The Rise of Kruul

Our defeat of Azgoth was one of many such missions the month after we invaded Nathreza. But rather than travel to other worlds, Lord Illidan began sending us to locations all over Outland. We assaulted demon camps in the Blade's Edge Mountains and worked to close portals in the vast plains of Nagrand. By now it had become clear that Kael'thas Sunstrider, lord of the blood elves, had fallen prey to the Legion's empty promises, and we just as often engaged his forces in the Netherstorm. Fortunately, none of the blood elves the prince had left behind felt any desire to return to his service—they were Illidari, now and forever.

Around this time, Vandel seemed to have been singled out as the Master's unofficial right hand. As he had with Kor'vas, Illidan often looked at the older elf with an unknown expression. Satisfaction? Respect? Impossible to say, but it was Vandel who led our expeditions when Illidan himself was absent. And as much as we pestered him for answers, Vandel had none to give. If the Master had another plan in store, he was keeping it a secret.

As for me, I was just grateful that I could finally think clearly. No more out-of-control gorging on demon flesh, no more cowering in fear of my own shadow. I had obtained balance on the edge of a knife, and while being a demon hunter would always be a dangerous art, I was no longer worried about losing myself.

Today our Master had sent us to the harsh wasteland of Hellfire Peninsula. Landing beside Vandel, who had in turn landed before Lord Illidan, I examined one of the metal containers we had seized. My spectral sight told me it contained nothing more than plain rocks. Yet many others glowed with unnaturally powerful magic. Hardly a surprise; in addition to the usual attacks against Legion bases, Lord Illidan had also led us on far more deliberate missions: ambushes against demonic caravans that just happened to be carrying gems of great power. Thinking of the worlds we had invaded in the past, I wondered if the Master was planning to construct another portal.

As Asha and Belath landed behind me, I directed my attention away from our prize to where the skeletal remains of a fel orc floated in the air. Clearly the unfortunate wretch had refused to answer the Master's questions in life; now his bones would do the talking in death.

"Tell me of Highlord Kruul," commanded Lord Illidan.

The orc's remains were lifeless, animated only by fel magic. Yet the jaws still parted as an evil cackle emerged from the empty bones.

"No need, Betrayer. No need. He approaches. Ask him yourself."

Upon the very naming of the Legion commander, I had felt my hair stand on edge. Highlord Kruul…it was a name fit for a demonic general, a monster to be truly feared. I had never met this Kruul, never even heard of him until the Master had spoken his name, but I immediately knew this was so. Perhaps it was my lingering attachment to the wrathguard that filled me with such dread—trace memories of the demon's time serving under this Kruul?

I didn't have to wonder long, for the animated bones had spoken the truth. As if summoned by the orc's defiance, a great wave of fire washed over the land, and I felt myself suddenly flying through the air before the hard, dusty ground rose up to greet me. Vandel, Asha, and Belath had fared little better, and I had to wonder what could have produced such power. Looking up, I found my answer: A great portal had erupted into existence several feet away. I was immediately reminded of the Dark Portal, for this gateway was gargantuan in size, its unrelenting energies blazing across the already-scarred landscape.

And from the fiery depths emerged a figure that was nearly as massive as the portal itself.

I had thought facing down a pit lord had been frightening. Now I knew what it truly meant to face a commander of the Burning Legion. The mighty demon resembled a doomguard, but was twice as large and even more monstrous. His powerful hooves were like boulders. As they slammed down, the sound echoed like thunder across the vast wasteland. Covered in magical, glowing armor and wielding a blade the size of a tree, the monstrosity before us made Azgoth seem like an insect.

This was Highlord Kruul, no doubt about it.

"So, you are the one who defeated Magtheridon," he boomed. "You don't look like much."

Two infernals emerged from the portal behind Kruul. While not nearly as big as their master, the fiery demons were gigantic in their own right. It was clear that the Illidari were outmatched. We had set out to ambush a caravan, and now faced one of the Legion's most powerful generals.

Well, I would fight regardless, and thank my luck that the Master had chosen to accompany us.

"And you look like just another doomguard," retorted Illidan.

A sudden thought occurred to me— _was_ it luck? Illidan didn't appear even remotely intimidated by Kruul's sudden appearance, and suspicion nagged at my mind. The Master always had a plan—he _knew_ Kruul would show up eventually.

This mission had been a trap—but not for us.

"Have you come to see if you can get vengeance for the doom of your brethren's homeworld?" asked Illidan.

Kruul let out a great cackle, again mimicking the sound of thunder.

"That was well done," he conceded. "Destruction wreaked upon the destroyers. But no, I have not come to seek vengeance. I have come to kill you."

The Master readied his warglaives, and the rest of us eagerly followed suit.

"Others have tried," taunted Illidan. "I shall pen you beside Magtheridon and use your blood to build my armies."

"My blood would burn your little pets," sneered Kruul. "You would only have charred husks to serve you."

All this time, the portal behind Kruul never closed. On the contrary, more and more infernals now stepped through. I smiled grimly as I felt our allies also moving into position, undetected by the monsters we faced.

But then the Master's next words caught me by surprise.

"I have charted the portals you have been opening," he said. "You have been busy. Ironforge, Stormwind City, Orgrimmar. Silithus. The Plaguelands. You seek to invade Azeroth once more, do you not?"

I stared in shock. All this time on Outland, and the Legion had been busy amassing _another_ assault on my homeworld? Hadn't this been what we were training for?

But even as I mentally asked these questions, I already knew the answer: of course it was. That was why we had travelled to Legion worlds and laid waste to them. It was why we worked to close portals throughout Outland. Again I reminded myself of the vision I had seen during the ritual, that of the Legion's endless armies decimating world after world across the cosmos. Azeroth was only one of these; I had to remember the bigger picture.

"And I have studied your reaving of our forces," said Kruul, "and I see a pattern to it. You seek to build another gateway, don't you? Ah, but to where is the question. I have heard of your boasting. Could it be you are truly mad enough to seek Argus?"

"Perhaps we will discuss this while I have you imprisoned in Hellfire Citadel," replied Illidan smoothly.

"I fear that your time for discussion has run out," said Kruul, as the last of the demons emerged from the portal.

There were now a total of five infernals…and a core hound. The massive, dog-like creature roared with two monstrous heads, the slavering jaws drooling liquid fire.

But now the Illidari were in position, and as our master leapt forward to strike at Kruul, Vandel led us into battle against the Legion's pawns. The air was suddenly filled with demon hunters leaping out from the hills above. Kayn dug his warglaives into the eyes of an infernal, the momentum of his leap shattering the cluster of fiery stones and sending them rolling across the landscape. Allari began draining the flames away from another, before Kor'vas sawed through its head, having scaled the rocky demon from behind.

The Legion was powerful, but we were demon hunters. _This_ was what we were made for.

To my left, Vandel had engaged the core hound, and I quickly leapt in to help him. The deadly jaws issued forth a terrible stench like rotting flesh, and I had no doubt the foul breath would prove just as fatal as the beast's molten spittle.

Vandel let loose a felbolt that struck one of the heads as I leapt in from the other side to strike at the beast directly. From this position, I dove between the stubby legs to carve into the beast's thick underbelly. The demon roared as Vandel struck from above, digging his blades into the monster's spine.

Even as we continued to chip away at the core hound, the rest of the battle was not going well.

The infernals fell easily enough, but Highlord Kruul was powerful enough to take on multiple foes at once. Even as he traded blows with Lord Illidan, the demonic commander also reached out with dark energies and drained the life from those unlucky enough to draw too near the two warlords.

I felt true hatred rising within me at the thought of any of my allies suffering this kind of torment, but I had to trust the Master to handle Kruul. Instead, I channeled the dark energies at the core hound, and felt grim satisfaction as my warglaives tore through the side of its face. The resulting shriek made my hair stand on edge, but as the beast began to sniff the air in desperation, I realized that I had succeeded in blinding it.

Taking advantage of the demon's loss of sight, Vandel began channeling fel energy between his hands, pouring the destructive power into the beast's foul hide. Still it would not die.

Glancing over at where Illidan continued to battle Kruul, I saw the Master leap into the air and unleash a massive blast of demonic fire. The giant projectile slammed into Kruul and tore into the mighty demon. Smoke curled upward from where it had struck, and even from where I stood, I could smell the highlord's flesh burning.

"No! That is not possible!" roared the Legion's commander.

But despite his power, he was still just as cowardly as any other demon, and as Vandel finally slew the core hound, Highlord Kruul turned and fled back through the portal.

I sank to my knees as exhaustion set in. We had slain entire worlds full of demons and taken on a pit lord. But none of us had been prepared to take on a demon of Kruul's might. Even the lesser demons had been stronger than the usual rabble.

"I'm glad to see you're not among the fallen."

I looked over as Kor'vas sat down next to me.

"Never go up against a core hound alone," I cautioned her.

"I'll remember that," she said. "But that's not what's bothering you, is it?"

It seemed that Kor'vas was just as capable at reading people as I was.

"I heard what Kruul said, when he spoke to the Master," I told her. "The Legion has been opening up portals…on Azeroth. They're launching another invasion."

Kor'vas didn't look surprised by this revelation.

"Surely Lord Illidan knows about this?" she asked.

"He didn't seem surprised," I agreed, slowly rising to my feet. "I just hope he knows what to do next."

"The Master always has a plan," Kor'vas assured me.

I nodded, trying to appear more confident than I felt. But as we marched through the portal that would lead us to the Black Temple, I couldn't help but feel like this was just the beginning.


	7. The Burning Crusade

_Hey readers, sorry for the huge delay; multiple projects tend to keep me distracted. But rest assured I haven't given up on this story! Thanks again to Spiffyleaf for the feedback—after careful consideration, I've tried to make this particular chapter much longer. Due to the content, that shouldn't be too hard, if you know what's coming next…  
But seriously, folks: what do you think? Would you like to see longer chapters like this and Chapter 3, or is it more about content? Please read and review; lemme know what you like and what you don't so I can keep giving you guys the best story I possibly can!_

 _Disclaimer: I do not own World of Warcraft, which remains the property of Blizzard Entertainment. Credit for the majority of this chapter belongs to William King and his novel "World of Warcraft: Illidan."_

Chapter 7: The Burning Crusade

The beginning of the end, perhaps. It couldn't have been more than a week after our introduction to Highlord Kruul that things began to fall apart. The first indication of this was the way in which we learned of our next the past, Varedis or one of the other demonic overseers would receive their orders from the Master, and would in turn impart them to the rest of us. There was a chain of command, a path along which information would travel.

When Lord Illidan landed squarely in the center of the courtyard, I could see none of that mattered. Considering that Varedis looked as surprised as the rest of us, it was clear that our supervisors were just as in the dark as we were. Whatever news the Master had for us, it was important enough to be delivered in person.

The expression on Illidan's face indicated that the news was anything but good. In one of those rare moments of transparency, I could see that Illidan was troubled, even worried. There was an urgency to his movements as the Master formed a portal near where he had landed.

"We make for the Dark Portal!" he announced. "Immediately!"

* * *

Not for the first time, I wondered if the hallucinations really had gone away. The Hellfire Peninsula was the same as ever—dry and desolate. But from our position on the ridge overlooking the infamous Dark Portal, we could see that the wasteland had suddenly come to life with activity.

Demons numbering in the thousands swarmed all around the steps of the Dark Portal, barking orders and strengthening the defenses of their crude encampments. It was as if the vision we had received as demon hunters now played itself out before our very eyes.

But this was reality.

Even as the Legion's forces continued to establish their base of operations, countless more reinforcements marched in from the direction of the Zangarmarsh. The Legion was clearly preparing for something…but what?

Directing my gaze to the Dark Portal itself, I found my answer.

The once-empty gateway surged with power, the stone frame now filled with magical energy. The Dark Portal had been reactivated, and thinking back to the conversation between Illidan and Kruul, I had no doubt where it led.

The Legion was indeed preparing to invade Azeroth once again. And yet as I looked down upon the thousands of demons gathering below, I also realized that this invasion force was nothing. Outland was but one of many worlds the demons had obliterated throughout the cosmos. Their numbers were infinite, beyond the calculations of even the most intelligent of sorcerers.

Recalling our plan to take this war to the Legion, I studied the Master closely. Lord Illidan sneered at the demons massing below. Others were far less confident: like me, Vandel was also looking at the Master with uncertainty. Elarisiel looked downright afraid, as did Kor'vas. Allari licked her lips nervously. Kayn and Varedis mimicked Illidan's contempt, but I knew that they were faking it. I just hoped that Lord Illidan's confidence was genuine.

Why had the Master brought us here? Did he want us to watch as the Legion invaded our world, to remind us exactly what we fought for? For all I knew, this was just the latest in the endless series of tests that dominated our lives.

Then, everything changed. The energies flowing through the Dark Portal suddenly flared up, and the activity of the demons became more urgent. Its fighters hurried to take up battle positions. And as the first of the combatants emerged through the portal, I realized that the Legion hadn't simply been planning to invade.

They were also preparing to be invaded.

I stared in awe as proud humans marched alongside battle-hardened orcs. Above, kaldorei and sindorei flew together on hippogriffs and dragonhawks. Draenei priests and tauren shaman marched side-by-side in the back rows, healing magic at the ready.

If the demons had numbered in the thousands, then the combined forces of both the Alliance and the Horde must have reached billions. Every fighter on Azeroth had to have been down there defending not just the Dark Portal, but the world to which it led. If the demons below were but a tiny portion of the Legion's strength, then how many more soldiers from Azeroth waited on the other side of the great gate?

At the center of the Legion's base camp, a familiar face roared and barked out marching orders: Highlord Kruul had returned to personally oversee the Legion's defenses.

Lord Illidan also studied the demonic commander with considerable interest.

"Did Kruul expect this?" the Master asked, as if to himself. "Did he want it?"

"Why would he want to provoke an attack from both the Horde and the Alliance?" asked Vandel.

"To draw out the forces of Azeroth, perhaps" answered Illidan. "To lure them away from their home ground into a place where they can more easily be destroyed."

"You think this is a trap, Lord Illidan?"

"It has the feel of one. The question is, for whom? There is something here that I dislike."

Listening to their exchange, I frowned thoughtfully. It was true that the Legion's numbers were endless, that the rank-and-file demons were practically mindless warriors. But that was not so for their commanders. The corruption of the orcs, the creation of the Scourge, Archimonde's attempt to consume the World Tree…the monsters who truly commanded the Legion's forces were masters of deception. They played the long game—Illidan himself seemed to emulate Kil'jaeden at times, if only in terms of strategy and misdirection. So what was Kruul up to?

I looked over at Vandel, whose emotions could be more easily read. He looked guilty, and I followed his gaze down to where a squad of night elves entered the fray atop their giant nightsabers. Did he want to be down there, among his people? I immediately sneered at the idea. Yes, that had been us…once upon a time. But we were night elves no longer, just as Belath and Kayn were no longer sindorei. We were Illidari, all of us. It would be foolish to ally with them now, when we sported glowing eyes and tattoos, when horns and claws and scales marked our flesh. Like Illidan, we were also "betrayers." The vainglorious priestesses and druids would sooner lock us away than accept our aid against the Legion.

Looking back at the Legion camp, I watched Kruul with renewed interest as the commander seemed to abandon his base entirely. A squad of demons followed him along the nearby ridge…where they would not be seen by the armies fighting on the platform above.

"If those demons can turn the orc flank, then the battle will be lost and the invaders will be sent back to Azeroth," commented Illidan. "The greater part of their force will be cut off and destroyed."

"We cannot let that happen," said Vandel forcefully.

I looked at him in shock. While he had not technically questioned the Master as Kor'vas had, there was an authority to the elf's voice that surely would have captured Illidan's attention.

"Of course, you are correct, Vandel," said the Master. "Take a company and intercept the demons before they reach the stairs. Stop them."

I would have blinked in surprise if I could. Once again I was reminded why people were so quick to mistrust Lord Illidan—only rarely could his true motives be discerned, and this was not one of those times. Kor'vas had not been punished for her outburst, but I wasn't so sure Vandel would escape such a fate. The Master had just commanded us to go up against Highlord Kruul alone—a suicide mission.

Then again, wasn't opposing the Legion foolish in itself? Yet that was what we stood for. Maybe Kruul would kill us before we could even scratch him. So be it. We were demon hunters, now and forever.

Our newfound speed enabled us to catch up to the highlord's forces just as they were about to fly up the side of the platform. Vandel let out a loud roar, drawing their attention away from the forces of Azeroth. Even from a distance, I could see Kruul's predatory grin, like a panther about to devour a helpless rabbit.

But we would make Kruul work for his meal. Vandel immediately fired off a felbolt at one of the felguard, and the demon fell screaming to the ground as its wings burned away. I quickly leapt forward as we engaged the various felguard and wrathguard in battle. Kruul's personal squad of demons was powerful, but they fell to our blades in seconds. I savored the dying scream of a wrathguard as my warglaive sliced upward through its flesh. The thought of being afraid of such a creature now seemed laughable.

With Kruul separated from his forces, Vandel leapt forward to engage the highlord, and I hurried to back him up.

"Ah, little one, does your master fear to face me himself?" cackled the giant demon.

"No. He thinks I am a match for you," retorted Vandel.

We scattered as Kruul's massive blade came crashing down. To such a creature, we must have seemed like meddlesome insects. All around Kruul we moved, slashing and evading, our warglaives biting into the flesh of the demon's mighty limbs.

But Kruul was a highlord, and none of our strikes seemed to faze him. On the contrary, a mighty aura of protection shimmered around the giant demon, deflecting each of our blows. Once again we tasted the highlord's power firsthand as two of our number died instantly, the first being cut in half by Kruul's mighty blade, while the other was incinerated by the hail of fire that erupted from the demon's massive fist.

At some point during the melee, more portals had opened up, and I spat on the desert floor as Kruul called upon his damned core hounds. The many heads of the canine monstrosities slavered and roared as the beasts marched toward us.

As I rolled and ducked and dodged, I realized that this was the end for us. I had known it when Lord Illidan gave us the command, but now the reality of it hit me. Even as I continued to hack away at Kruul's pets, I knew that it was futile. The highlord could call upon an infinite amount of reinforcements. We would die here, and the Legion would obliterate both the Alliance and the Horde.

Then, they would destroy all of Azeroth.

So be it. I was a demon hunter. I had vowed to stand against the enemy of all life, and I would be damned if I stopped now. Foolishly, I would die for those who would have sooner locked me in a cage than display the smallest amount of gratitude. I had sacrificed everything else—my life didn't seem too much to ask at this point.

But if I had to die, then I was going to take as many of these monsters down with me as I could. As Needle and Elarisiel worked with me to clear a path, I could see Vandel engaging Kruul…alone. The elf had fallen to one knee, and was breathing heavily. But even in his final moments, Vandel stared up at Kruul defiantly and raised his daggers as the gigantic sword swung down at him.

A massive blast of fel energy erupted from Kruul's chest, and the highlord fell to the ground along with his deadly blade. Lord Illidan stood over the gigantic corpse triumphantly, his warglaizes still glowing with the aftereffects of the spell he had unleashed.

A portal next to the Master shimmered into being, and the rest of the Illidari swarmed through. Now it was the demons who were destroyed from behind. For the moment, I just concentrated on slaughtering the remaining core hounds, shaking my head in wonder and admiration at Illidan's bizarre sense of genius.

"We have saved the Alliance and the Horde this day, and they will never know," said Vandel after we finished off the last of Kruul's forces.

"They do not need to know. It is enough that they are here," replied Illidan, smirking. "They will keep the Burning Legion occupied while we engineer its defeat. The enemy of my enemy…"

I frowned at the Master's words. It would have been petty to demand gratitude those we had just saved—what mattered was that, like us, they were here to destroy the Burning Legion.

But I had to question Illidan's sudden optimism—the Betrayer of all people should have known that the Alliance and Horde would consider him an enemy no different from Kil'jaeden or Archimonde. He was just another demon to them. We all were.

No, surely he was aware of what the vaunted 'heroes' thought. Perhaps his plan really was so far along that the balance of power in Outland no longer mattered. I had to believe that in this, the Master had a plan, just as he always did.

* * *

The air was thick with tension outside the door to the Chamber of Command. We must have looked like hapless villagers awaiting news from their king. The comparison wasn't far off either, for it was not just demon hunters that had assembled on the top floor of the Grand Promenade. Soldiers from all the various factions of the Illidari waited anxiously for news: naga, orcs, blood elves, even the broken draenei of the Ashtongue clan. We all stood apart in our own groups, but every single one of Illidan's forces felt the same sense of foreboding. It wasn't hard to tell why, for while information was usually restricted around the Black Temple, I had overheard enough to piece together what had happened.

Illidan's empire was crumbling. Hellfire Citadel and the Coilfang Reservoir had been conquered and some of the Master's most valuable lieutenants slain. Any hope that the enemies of the Legion would recognize us as allies seemed naïve at this point—the Azerothian offensive threatened to eclipse all of Outland.

The doors slowly swung open as if sensing the anxiety of those outside, and I tried to appear disinterested as the Illidari Council crossed the promenade toward the bulk of Illidan's forces, while Akama hobbled away into the shadows, flanked by his strange-looking brethren. My attention was focused on Varedis and the other supervisors. Since the demise of Highlord Kruul, the Master had also taken Vandel into his confidence. I felt more assured than envious, knowing that I could count on him for a straight answer even if Varedis remained tight-lipped.

"Well? What does the Master have to say?" asked Allari eagerly.

"We are on standby until further notice," Varedis replied shortly.

"Standby? Is that all?" I snarled.

"What of the Master's plan?" asked Kor'vas, specifically addressing Vandel.

Varedis glared at him in warning, but Vandel simply responded with a gesture that compared the overseer's parents to a motherless ogre. Such an insult would have resulted in death for any one of us, but now that Vandel had been admitted into the Master's inner circle, Varedis could only scowl.

"The end of our mission lies within our grasp," announced Vandel. "Just as he told us, Lord Illidan plans to journey to Argus and bring an end to the Burning Legion once and for all."

"Our time on Outland is coming to an end," added Varedis. "The downfall of our holdings here is inconsequential."

"Then we can expect to travel to Argus soon?" asked Kayn.

"Very soon, if what the Master says is any indication," replied Vandel.

"And we must, for only on Argus can the Legion meet a decisive end," explained Varedis. "The magics of the Twisting Nether are incredibly potent on worlds such as Argus…or Nathreza. Every demon slain on Azeroth or Outland will be reincarnated on the Legion's homeworld, and return with all of its strength renewed."

Around me, my fellow demon hunters nodded in understanding. Technically speaking, Lord Illidan had never given us this explanation, but it made sense, aligning with everything else we had done under his command.

"You all know what this means," said Vandel, gripping his amulet tightly. "The Master plans for us to journey to Argus, the very homeworld of the Legion."

"And?" prompted Kayn.

"And _nothing_ ," replied Vandel, staring hard at each of us. "Lord Illidan's plans go no further than Argus. Do you understand? One way or another, this is the end for us."

Shocked silence washed over us, and Varedis' expression made it clear he had not wanted that bit of information made public. It was understandable; for the longest time, we had served Illidan without question, ever-confident that he had a plan. Now the time was fast approaching for the biggest scheme of all…and if Vandel spoke the truth, not even the Master himself knew whether we would succeed or fail.

"So just as Lord Illidan made me think about this," continued Vandel, "so too do I ask you to consider what matters most. Whether we remain here and await the wrath of Azeroth's forces, or we journey to do battle with the Legion, there is a very high likelihood that we are all going to die. What, then, will have given our lives the most meaning? As Varedis said, we are all on standby until the Master calls on us. Until then, think on this."

Next to me, I felt Kor'vas slip her fingers in between mine. I looked at her and saw my own thoughts reflected back. I felt genuine fear, far beyond anything I had known from doing battle with demons. For all our vast powers, we were now rendered utterly helpless—uncertainty would not fall to our glaives as the forces of the Legion had.

* * *

Several weeks later, we finally learned our fate: the Black Temple was under attack. The combined forces of the Alliance and Horde, united with the Aldor and the Scryers of Shattrath City, now assaulted the gates.

As if heralding this attack, it was revealed that one of our number had apparently been aiding adventurers from Azeroth for weeks now. Altruis had given these 'heroes' everything they needed to destroy the courtyard we had once called home. Theras, Netharel, Alandien, and Varedis had all been killed in this initial battle. The outside of the temple was no longer safe.

Ever since that day in the Promenade, there had been no word from Lord Illidan. I had spotted the various members of the Illidari Council entering and leaving the chamber several times, but we demon hunters had remained on standby. I had spent almost all this time with Kor'vas, sparring with her in the courtyard before it had been lost, or sitting with her on one of the many balconies lining the temple.

It gave us a perfect view of the end of our world.

"They'll breach the temple soon," I said.

"Then Vandel was right," she replied. "We are all going to die."

"Are you afraid?" I asked.

"I watched my home burn to the ground," she said, her eyes glowing fiercely. "My parents were devoured right in front of me. There's nothing they can do that will terrify me now."

But as I held her in my arms, I knew she was lying. We had both lost everything, and had sought vengeance as a means of striking back. Somewhere along the way, we had managed to find something resembling a home and a family.

Now, we would lose it all over again.

 _Come to me now, my demon hunters_.

We immediately separated, looking at each other in shock.

"Did you…?" she asked.

"Yes," I answered, leaping to my feet and taking her hand. "Standby's over."

Leaping down the stairs back into the temple, I hit the floor hard. Shaking it off, I rolled back to my feet and hurried toward the council chamber, Kor'vas right behind me.

 _Come to me now, my demon hunters._

The disembodied voice of the Master rang throughout the halls of the Black Temple. There was a desperate urgency to it, like that of a bell being rung to warn of an invading army. The fortress was in a state of chaos: satyrs and dreadlords hurried to assume defensive positions as fel orcs and broken draenei ran in various directions. There was desperation on my part as well, a very real need to obey that went far beyond mere loyalty.

It was as if I were a demon being summoned by its dark master.

 _Come to me now, my demon hunters_.

I told myself it didn't matter—the Black Temple was under siege, and Lord Illidan was calling us together one last time.

The Master always had a plan.

We bounded up more stairs, racing down a corridor and catching up with Allari, Belath, and Asha.

"You heard it, too," said Belath.

"We all heard it," replied Kor'vas.

"The Master has summoned us, and we obey," said Kayn as he also joined us.

By the time we finally emerged onto the platform at the top of the Black Temple, the rest of the demon hunters were assembled.

No, that wasn't true. One of us was missing.

"Where is Vandel?" I asked.

Lord Illidan knelt at the edge of the summit, staring down at the invaders like a massive gargoyle.

"You all received the summons," he answered simply.

I dug my claws into the palms of my hands as I realized what Illidan meant. Vandel had been like a brother to me. He had been there when I awoke, been there when I received my tattoos. We had both sparred in the same courtyard, fought together against the same demons. Vandel had been among the strongest of us. Hatred bubbled up within me, as toxic as the fel blood that ran through my veins. At that moment, I no longer cared about dying—all I wanted was to turn right back around and slaughter these self-styled 'heroes.'

I swallowed my rage, forced myself to focus. Lord Illidan had summoned us for a reason, and I distracted myself by pretending to examine my warglaives. Around me, the others were doing the same, each demon hunter making sure they were prepared for combat.

"Illidari," announced our master. "My demon hunters. With countless worlds burning in the Legion's wake, you answered the call. Yet these mortals, in their ignorance, have come to destroy their own salvation."

A collective snarl rose among us as we watched the battle rage below. Lord Illidan now had our full attention—perhaps he would send us at the invaders after all. These self-righteous fools had no idea of what we had been working so hard to accomplish the past few months. Destroying anything that looked like a demon was all they knew. Watching a warlock call down fire upon a group of satyrs, I wanted to vomit at the hypocrisy.

"Our time is short," said Illidan. "I will deal with these intruders. You must venture to Mardum, and retrieve the Sargerite Keystone."

The Master held out his hand, and a small crystal appeared in the space above his palm. The stone gleamed with fel magic, and even the image of the demonic artifact promised an eternity of knowledge and power.

"Now, go!" he commanded, turning the replica into a felbolt and casting it out onto the floor of the summit.

A massive green portal erupted from where the fireball had landed, and I could see the makings of a ruined world on the other side, not unlike those we had visited in the past. My fellow demon hunters immediately charged through the gateway, but something about it gave me pause. In the past, such portals had taken massive amounts of energy to conjure, and as Lord Illidan wove the magics that would hold it open, I realized that he would not be joining us.

I felt a great sense of loss. Illidan was powerful, but could even he hope to stand against the combined might of the invaders alone?

I shook my head, dispelling these traitorous thoughts. The Master had given me an order, and I would obey.

As I prepared to follow my allies through the portal, a hand fell on my shoulder.

"But remember," said Illidan, trapping me in his demonic gaze, "should you fail, all worlds will burn."

I nodded solemnly, and leapt through the portal to face my destiny.

One last mission to save the world.


	8. The End of the Beginning

_Hey guys, thanks again for all the faves and reviews! I know a lot of you must be looking forward to the next chapter, so here it is! Please continue to read and review!_

 _Disclaimer: I do not own World of Warcraft, which is the property of Blizzard Entertainment._

Chapter 8: The End of the Beginning

Mardum was gigantic. The world containing Lord Illidan's prize was more expansive than Nathreza, and even more twisted than Azgoth's domain. How were we supposed to find a single crystal in such a place?

But I couldn't let doubt cloud my thoughts. Not this time. The Master had summoned every single demon hunter for this task. With the Black Temple under siege, this was all or nothing.

The portal led us to the top of a large slope overlooking the vast, burning landscape of Mardum. The very air burned with volcanic ash, and the ground beneath our feet was tainted with fel energy, both telltale signs of the Legion's presence. As we proceeded down the hill to establish a base camp, I once again heard the Master's voice.

 _Sargeras' Keystone is the crux of my plan to defeat the Burning Legion_.

I nodded, the mission's urgency fully cemented in my mind.

 _It is also your only way back_.

"What?"

I quickly whirled around, and sure enough, the portal had closed on us. Where the swirling green gateway had once been, there was now only empty space. Something back on Outland had diverted the Master's attention…or someone.

 _Find it and return to the Black Temple_.

I sighed. The Master had told us that the fate of the universe depended on our success. Now it was clear that failure meant we would be stranded on Mardum…forever. Or not; we'd probably be the first to go before the Legion proceeded to incinerate the rest of the cosmos.

"It's time to make our presence known," said Kayn.

I nodded, scanning the dark landscape from the cliff on which we stood.

"That Keystone's out there…somewhere," I said.

"With it, we will be able to invade _any_ Legion world," he continued. "Even Argus."

The land continued to descend at a steadily unsafe rate…well, unsafe for those without the powers of a demon at their command. I grinned against the pain as large, batlike wings erupted from my shoulder blades, tearing through flesh and bone to propel me through the air.

The wrathguard below never saw us coming.

"Kill them all!" roared Kor'vas, dropping down and dismembering a demon from above.

The rest of us followed suit, reducing the once-formidable squad of demons to a pile of rotting corpses. Any demon unfortunate enough to cross our path fell before the unstoppable flood of demon hunters. Our advance could not be halted—we had been forged in demonic fire by the greatest warrior in the universe. I almost felt a shred of pity for the imps and felhounds that fell to a combined assault by myself, Kor'vas, and Allari. We demon hunters were perfectly in sync, operating as a single, unrelenting organism of destruction.

Eventually, the vast expanse of soot-stained wastelands and filthy canyons ended at a large, circular platform.

"Enter Mardum here" quipped Allari.

A device of some kind rested in the center. Above, the holographic image of the Legion's insignia hovered menacingly. The symbol promised a slow, painful death to those foolish enough to pass beyond this point.

"Cyana, Jace, Allari…find the keystone," ordered Kayn. "Now, let's see about activating that gateway."

I followed his gaze to a large stone archway. The gate was empty, but I knew that with the right prodding, it could be tempted to let more of our forces through.

"Kayn, what do you know of Mardum?" I asked.

"Eons ago, Sargeras created this world to imprison demons," said the blood elf. "He also created the Sargerite Keystone to lock them away. But when the Titan decided to burn all of creation, he shattered Mardum, sending its fragments hurtling through the Twisting Nether. Thus was born the Burning Legion. Sargeras safeguarded his keystone on this particular fragment. It's a 'skeleton key,' allowing access to any Legion world. It's also the key to Lord Illidan's plan for the Legion's destruction."

"The Master briefed you on all this?"

Kayn didn't miss my slight emphasis on the word _you_.

"We all have great potential as Illidari," he said. "Perhaps the Master sees even more of it in a select few. Are you envious?"

I was, a little. But if there was anything that should have been considered unwelcome in the Illidari, it was petty rivalries.

"I seek only to serve the Master," I told him.

Kayn nodded, clearly satisfied with my response.

"The Master's will be done," he answered. "Now, onto the business of summoning in the rest of our forces."

"What's the plan?" I asked.

"There are three Burning Legion gateways ahead," he explained. "Activate them and our Illidari will pour through them from the Black Temple."

"I imagine the primary fuel source will be living souls?" I guessed, grinning wickedly.

"I'd say we've provided enough of those for at least one gateway," added Kor'vas, her expression mirroring my own.

"We'll bring in the Ashtongue forces first," said Kayn, marching over to the giant archway.

Taking up position on one side of the portal, I poured fel energy into the generator as Kor'vas did the same on the other side. With the generators active and the archway brimming with demonic magic, a great swirl of fire soon manifested in the center of the stone gate, and the withered forms of the Ashtongue tribe began to pour through.

"Battlelord Gaardoun, reporting for duty!" called their leader.

Though he spoke in the same dry, wheezing tone as any other broken, Gaardoun was much larger than his feeble-looking brethren. Both his armor and battle-axe prominently defined the broken as a capable warrior.

"I am proud to have your people at my side," I replied, bowing to the elder.

"I present you with a gift from Lord Illidan himself," continued Gaardoun.

I looked up in surprise as a four-legged creature emerged from the depths of the portal. At first I took it to be a nightsaber. Then I realized that the animal's fur had been completely burnt off, revealing dark, mottled flesh beneath. Bones adorned the length of its neck, and burning green eyes peeked out from the empty sockets of its bare skull. The creature's tail had also been reduced to nothing but bones, and these rattled in an eerie clacking sound as the demonic cat approached me.

Cautiously, I reached out a hand, and to my surprise, the animal lovingly leaned into the caress. Nothing had changed—just as with night elves and their mounts, so too was there a connection between us and these felsabers.

"You are Kirasath," I told it. "The Twinclaw. For just as we smite the demons of the Burning Legion, so too shall we slaughter in defense of those we hold dear."

The felsaber raised its skeletal face and let out a loud roar. Its voice had been twisted with fel magic as mine had. But also like me, it retained the intellect of its previous life, and clearly understood what I had said.

"My forces are yours," promised Gaardoun, as I mounted Kirasath. "We will assist in establishing the volcano foothold."

I nodded—of all places, it was the most likely spot to hide the keystone. Seeing Kor'vas and Kayn climb atop their own mounts, I tightened the reins and prepared to charge.

"By your leave, Battlelord," I told the broken. "For the Illidari!"

"Ashtongue, forward!" commanded Gaardoun.

The path led us through yet more canyons and desolate wastes. Though I knew which way the mission led, something caught my attention—the smell of magic being worked. Rather than follow Gaardoun and his Ashtongue, I instead rode over to a small cave in the side of one of the canyons. There I found Allari hard at work on an inquisitor. The blood elf was surround by the bodies of the demons whose souls she had drained.

"I saw the Ashtongue run by," she said. "Not the most impressive of troops, but they have proved useful in the past."

"Once we open more portals, we'll be able to call on other factions of the Illidari for aid," said Kayn.

"How many can we call upon?" asked Kor'vas, looking worried. "Surely the Black Temple will need all the defenders it can get."

"The servitors we'll summon have been set aside by Lord Illidan for this very purpose," assured the blood elf. "The Master has been planning this very mission for months now."

"The Master always has a plan," I recited. "Our mission is all that matters. What's going on here, Allari?"

"I am using the Scythe of Souls to interrogate these demons," she reported. "But they do not know anything about the location of the Sargerite Keystone."

I nodded, admiring the smooth, violet weapon. Allari often referred to it as an "Artifact," and its former owner, a particularly powerful inquisitor, had used the scythe to drain the souls of the living for the purposes of torture. The weapon's magic clearly had potential for great wickedness, potential that Allari now put to much better use.

"They just keep repeating their loyalty to some queen," she continued. "Jace and Cyana have moved on ahead. Unfortunately, I think Cyana got herself captured trying to help out the other Illidari. There's something not right about her…"

Glancing over at Kor'vas, I saw that I wasn't the only one who remembered Cyana's ruthlessness during our training sessions. It was possible that Allari was still miffed about losing to the night elf, but on the other hand…Cyana had always been reckless in terms of combat, placing violence above self-preservation. The notion of her being captured wasn't impossible to imagine.

"The inquisitor revealed that Cyana and the others are being held by a new demon—something called a 'jailer,'" explained Allari. "It sucks the souls out of its victims. I doubt they can hold on much longer."

"Alright, we'll press on ahead and see what we can do," I said.

Allari groaned in frustration, finally swinging the scythe and reducing the captive demon to ashes.

"Useless," she spat. "But I sense a fresh inquisitor just up ahead. Since you're heading out that way to aid Cyana, you might as well get in contact with Jace. Stealing the inquisitor's power will enable Jace to use some of it in his ritual to spy on the Legion."

"The next gateway is also down that way, on the Molten Shore," said Kayn. "Our Coilskar forces stand ready back on Outland, waiting to be summoned."

"Like the last gateway, this one will also feast on souls…" I said, grinning at Allari. "If you're all done here, I'm sure you'd like to partake."

"It will be my pleasure," she purred, exposing her fangs in a wide grin.

The Molten Shore was a beachhead in name only. Like the rest of Mardum, the area was covered in foul soot and burning rivers of bright green fel. What made this area special, however, were the new demons Allari had mentioned. 'Jailer' was an appropriate name for the floating brutes; each sported a nasty-looking cage on its back equipped with spikes and brimming with demonic energy. The manacles they wielded were just as deadly, each chain sporting iron barbs that had been purposely designed to inflict maximum torture. The thought of any of my fellow Illidari at the mercy of such a creature was sickening.

But at their mercy we were, for I spied several crude-looking cages in the valley below, each holding a captive demon hunter. And as we charged down to free our fallen comrades, more jailers swarmed toward us.

Fortunately, we were not alone—out of the shadows emerged the broken of the Ashtongue tribe. Moving through the darkness in perfect silence, they slipped in and out of perception, never making their presence known until it was too late. The demons looked around in confusion, some even casting out their chains in desperation. It did them no good as Gaardoun's squad of assassins evaded the jailers' traps and stuck their razor-sharp blades into critical arteries and organs.

With the broken engaging the demons, that gave us time to focus on freeing our brethren, and it wasn't long until we found Cyana among the captured. As I suspected, the night elf had not been broken by the demons' torment. On the contrary, she almost seemed to have grown even more vicious, if that were possible.

"I will _never_ be taken prisoner again!" she vowed, her eyes glowing fiercely. " _Never_!"

Before I could respond, Cyana leapt out of her cage and joined the Ashtongue in dispatching the rest of the jailers before running off. I was beginning to think Allari was right: there _was_ something wrong with that one. But with the rest of our forces freed and the path to the second gateway clear, there were bigger things to worry about.

Such as the heavily-scarred broken kneeling down several feet away.

"What's happened here?" I asked.

"The jailers…" he wheezed, coughing up black blood. "I am as good as dead. But I know…what you need for the gateway…"

It was true. We had slain many demons en-route to the second gate, but it hadn't been enough to satisfy the portal's thirst. Even so, the thought of sacrificing one of our own…

"We don't have much time," Kayn told me, gesturing at the old shaman's wounds.

It looked bad—the jailers had almost completely torn open the broken's chest, and half of the old draenei's face had been smashed in. It was a miracle he could still breathe, let alone speak. Further proof of just how touch the broken were, even at the brink of death.

Still I hesitated, and the elder looked up at me, his one remaining eye staring deep into mine, as if he sensed my doubt.

"It would be a mercy," he assured me. "Please…do what you must."

Taking a deep breath, I readied my warglaives and tried to prepare myself for what I was about to do. I wanted to make this quick, for both of us.

"Thank you for your service, old one," I told him. "Know that your sacrifice will save many more lives this day."

I watched as the broken's eye slid shut, a calm smile creeping over the withered face.

"Thank you…"

The old shaman was completely at peace. He could have been sleeping.

Then I struck him down. It took only a single blow to cut through his elderly frame. With one final wheeze, the broken fell to the ground as his soul was sucked away into the portal generator.

I felt my grip tighten around my warglaives as the reality of what I had done began to sink in. Kor'vas put a gentle hand on my shoulder.

"Many more lives," she reminded me.

"Many more lives," I repeated, nodding gratefully. "Let's get on with it, then."

As we activated the portal, the massive gateway flared with energy, and out of the demonic magic slithered the serpentine forces of Illidan's naga.

"I am Lady S'theno," greeted their leader. "I represent the Coilskar."

"Your aid is much appreciated, my lady," replied Kayn. "There are many demons to be slaughtered, and a world to be ravaged."

"Say no more," hissed S'theno. "Lord Illidan sends his wishes for a speedy success. Coilskar, move out!"

"With both the Ashtongue and the Coilskar at our back, that keystone will be ours in no time," I said.

"Indeed, but there remains one final band of servitors to call upon," said Kayn. "And we will need all the power we can muster. Let us make our way toward the final gate."

"We'll need more souls to empower it," reminded Allari. "And Jace will want that inquisitor's eye for his ritual. The demon should be hiding around here somewhere."

I followed her over to a large ritual circle, the swirling lines and strange glyphs all written in fel blood and glowing with magic. As we approached, a tall, robed demon suddenly rose up from the center of it. Like us, he had no eye sockets in his horned skull, but he wove strange magics that I knew could cause endless torment.

"I can see your secrets!" he whispered harshly.

The inquisitor sent down a barrage of fel magic, but a bolt of lightning suddenly intercepted the blast. I turned around to see some of the Coilskar naga taking up position nearby, and nodded in gratitude.

With the naga providing support, we demon hunters rushed in to do battle with the inquisitor. Though powerful, he soon began to fall beneath the combined fury of our warglaives and the naga's magic.

"Enough!" he roared. "My colossal infernal will crush you!"

From the massive pool of fel behind him emerged a gargantuan monstrosity. I had fought infernals before, but this one was the size of a pitlord. It roared down at us and began hurling giant boulders from the fiery stew in which it stood.

"Enough!" yelled Allari, pointing her scythe at the inquisitor.

A dark beam poured from the weapon and hit the demon squarely in the forehead. The naga added their own magic to the spell, and the inquisitor screamed as the overwhelming power tore away at his robes.

"My eye!" he shrieked. "My…eye!"

The demon's robes dissolved into ash, and his remains with them. A single crystalline eye fell to the ground, which Allari eagerly scooped up.

"This should be sufficient for Jace's little ritual," she said with a grin.

"Then let's head for the final gateway," said Kayn. "Time is of the essence."

Jace awaited us at the very edge of the mountainous path that would lead to the volcano. The night elf had already made the necessary preparations: demonic statues carved to resemble dreadlords surrounded him, bathing the ritual site in the eerie glow of their violet flames.

"I sense great power about you," he said. "Have you extracted a demon's essence?"

Allari triumphantly held up the inquisitor's crystal eye, which Jace carefully plucked from her fingers and placed in a large basin within the ritual circle.

"The eye will allow us to spy on the Legion and see what they're planning," he explained.

Upon contact, the eye melted into the liquid of the basin, and a pillar of bright green smoke rose from the depths, curling around in a manner similar to that of a portal. In the center of it all came the image of two demons. One was easily recognizable as a doom guard. The other, however, was something of a cross between a dreadlord and a spider. The fact that it appeared to be female somehow made the demonic leader even more horrifying.

"There are demon hunters on my world, doom commander," she said. "This is unacceptable."

"My eredar are summoning in more demons to attack them from behind, your highness," said the doom guard, visibly cowering.

"Do not let them enter the volcano," ordered the queen. "The key to the Legion' worlds must not fall into their hands, Beliash."

"I will personally deal with their leader, my queen," he replied.

"See that you do," she hissed.

As the ritual came to an end, Jace frowned.

"Well, that's new," he remarked. "She looks like some kind of spider demon. As if the Legion needed spiders…"

"Scared of arachnids, Jace?" teased Allari.

"More importantly," interrupted Kor'vas, "the way the doom guard referred to her tells me this is the 'queen' all the demons are so afraid of."

"I doubt we'll be able to retrieve the keystone without confronting her," I said.

"The doom commander and his queen must be dealt with," agreed Jace. "Even now, I can sense the truth of the doom guard's words—his eredar are indeed summoning in a huge number of reinforcements. If we are to retrieve the keystone, then we need to put an end to him before we're overrun."

"As an added bonus, we can use his soul to power the final gateway," said Allari, tapping her Soul Scythe eagerly.

"We are not without reinforcements, either," said Kayn, nodding. "Our Shivarra demonesses await our call."

Shivarra…if the naga were a wild card, then who knew where the loyalties of the six-armed demons lay. It was true that Lord Illidan had many a demon in his employ, from the sadistic satyr to the voluptuous succubi. But summoning in an army of shivarra could be fatal, especially on a world this close to the Legion.

"Risk big, win big?" I asked.

"Let's hope so," said Jace, mounting up and pointing off in the distance. "Beliash is being protected by those Spires of Woe. We'll want to deactivate them to get a shot at the doom commander."

The closer we got to the volcano, the fewer demons we encountered. But I knew better than to relax—we were heading into the very heart of Legion territory. Whatever forces normally occupied this area had already left to do battle with our main forces…which meant only the worst of the worst remained behind.

In this case, the 'worst of the worst' included the Legion's two commanders. After passing through a canyon that had been blasted to pieces, we arrived at the area shown in the vision. A series of fel-green spikes rose up from the ground to tower over us. Just up ahead, the spider-like queen turned to hiss at us in disgust.

"Deal with these insects, Beliash!" she ordered, before vanishing.

"They will die!" he promised, rushing forward.

"If those spires give us trouble, we'll need to take out their stabilizers," advised Jace, weaving enchantments onto his warglaives.

He wasn't kidding—the doom commander's spires now began to rain down beams of fel magic. The burning rays were lethal, even for a demon hunter. Instead, we let Beliash come to us. This approach worked until the beams then shot at their master. A protective shield formed around him as the tower rained their fel magics down on the Legion's commander.

Kor'vas quickly leapt over to the tower's stabilizer, destroying the gem with a single blow, and Beliash's barrier shattered just as easily.

"Hey! Get away from that spire!" he yelled, stomping toward her.

This reckless maneuver left his back completely open, and we took advantage of this weakness to cut all along the backs of his wings and along his spine. The doom commander was strong, and his blade dangerous, but we had him outnumbered, and he quickly fell beneath the relentless barrage of warglaives.

"You won't survive Inferno Peak," gasped Beliash as Allari ripped the demon's soul from his chest.

* * *

The final gateway lay in the valley below. Belath awaited our arrival in the center of a vast ritual circle. Surrounding him were the many corpses of demons whose souls had been fed into the portal generator. But despite his obvious success, the blood elf looked troubled.

"We have a problem," he said. "A big one."

"What kind of problem?" asked Kayn. "All the preparations seem to be in order, thanks to you."

But I could see Belath shaking his head in response.

"That brood queen must have done something to the portal," he explained. "For all the demons I've slain, it refuses to activate. Not even the souls of the mo'arg were sufficient. We need something…stronger."

Realization hit me as Belath's meaning became clear.

"One of us must die," I said.

I could see that each of my companions was equally uncomfortable with this revelation. It was what we had signed up for, we who had pledged to give everything in the defense of Azeroth. But now that the time had come…

"Then you have a choice to make, Velscar," Kayn told me.

"Me?" I asked in surprise. "I thought you—"

Kayn shook his head, and for the first time since I had known him, the blood elf actually looked…guilty, even remorseful.

"All I've ever wanted was to serve Lord Illidan," he told us. "Like you, I gave everything up for him. My devotion was without question—you saw that yourself when Kor'vas openly questioned the Master."

"And if it hadn't been you, it could have been anyone else," said Kor'vas. "I don't blame you for that."

"If not for that, then for this," replied the blood elf, taking a deep breath. "I am not in command of this mission. I only pretended to be, because I wanted to serve the Master. But Lord Illidan placed his trust in me, and I let him down. He asked me to pass on his orders to the real commander. I see now that was another test...and I failed."

"Why does any of this matter?" I asked. "We all serve the Master equally. Why do any of us need to have command over the others?"

"That attitude, Velscar," said Kayn, "is precisely why Lord Illidan named _you_ commander of the Illidari."

If I hadn't known better, I could have sworn I had taken another hit from the demons. Kayn's words carried the full impact of an infernal barreling into me.

This had to be some kind of sick joke.

"I am not in the mood for humor, Kayn," I warned him.

"Nor am I," he replied sadly. "The Master wanted _you_ to lead this mission, and he wanted me to tell you. I thought it didn't matter who was in charge, so long as we retrieved the keystone. I just…I just wanted to be a leader."

"Did Lord Illidan know it would come to this, then?" asked Jace. "That we'd face this kind of decision?"

"This is Illidan we're talking about, of course he knew," I muttered. "And let me guess: why didn't he just grant me command himself? Another test."

It made sense, the more I thought about it. For all the secrecy, Illidan had not hidden his motives entirely—I thought about the way those glowing fel eyes had ensnared me, as if the Master were trying to physically impress upon me the urgency of our mission.

"The last thing I need is the burden of leadership," I said. "I'm no leader."

"The best leaders never are," said Kor'vas.

"Trust me, you don't want me as your leader," I told her, "because if I am, then you're _really_ not going to like my decision."

"Yes, what is your decision?" asked Allari, completely serious for once. "Our mission remains, leader or not."

"We must know—who shall have the honor of sacrificing everything for Azeroth?" asked Jace.

I looked around at them all, my friends and my allies. I wanted to be sure that I had their full attention. Under Lord Illidan, we had sacrificed everything together: our eyes, our minds, our very souls were put on the line. Our own people considered us abominations.

But the Master had never demanded a price that he himself had not paid a thousand times over. Yes, he had sent countless orcs, elves, broken, and naga to their deaths in order to open the way to Nathreza. But now we were here on Mardum, fighting to obtain the Sargerite Keystone. And where was Illidan? He had chosen to remain behind at the Black Temple, leaving himself at the mercy of Azeroth's armies.

What was _that_ if not sacrifice?

I had never wanted to be a leader—I had seen for myself how leaders could cause suffering in others 'for the greater good.' But now, as I thought about our missions with Lord Illidan, recalled everything that he had taught us, I realized that this pivotal decision was just one more test. It had to be; the alternative was far too terrible to contemplate.

"I will," I told them. "I will sacrifice everything."

Their responses were pretty much what I had expected.

"No!" protested Kor'vas.

"Let me be the sacrifice!" demanded Jace. "You're too valuable to just throw away!"

"Another demon hunter can learn to use this Scythe," said Allari. "What else am I good for?"

"ENOUGH!" I roared.

To my surprise, they actually obeyed.

"I have lost _everything_!" I snarled. "My home, my sister! My very _sanity_ was in question for most of my life! I will _not_ lose any of you! Not now! If I am really your leader, then let me lead!"

Kor'vas stepped forward, and opened her mouth to speak.

"Please don't try to talk me out of this," I told her. "I can't lose you to this madness. I won't."

"I wasn't going to," she said sadly. "But…let me do it?"

Silently, I nodded, trying to appear as emotionless as possible. I turned to Kayn and clapped a hand on his shoulder.

"Lead them well," I told him. "That's an order."

His eyes widened in surprise, before the blood elf looked down at his feet in shame. Kayn Sunfury, the mighty, confident demon hunter who walked in Lord Illidan's shadow…now cowed by humility.

"I lied to you. I used you," he said. "If anyone deserves to die, it should be me."

"You'll make a better leader than I ever could," I assured him. "Well, let's get this over with—that keystone's not going to steal itself."

Kor'vas positioned herself squarely in front of me and unsheathed her warglaive. I could see she was biting her lip intensely—if demon hunters could weep, her face would have been streaming with tears. So would mine, for that matter. Here, in my final moments, I could be honest with myself. I felt sadness, true heartache. A thousand demon blades would have been preferable to the thought of being separated from her. But there was no room for emotion, not here.

There was only duty.

"Are you _sure_ about this?" she asked.

"Better me than you," I told her. "Just…make it fast."

Kor'vas took a deep breath, and I braced myself as she made her strike.

One blow was all it took. I wasn't nearly as feeble as the broken, but Kor'vas's aim was perfect. Pain surged through me as her glaive pierced my heart and carved a deep gash in my side. I ground my teeth together, trying to endure the unrelenting agony—it felt like my whole body was on fire.

Kor'vas just stood there, watching me. She looked as if she'd never forgive herself.

"I will remember you," she whispered.

I nodded, trying to smile bravely as the pain melted away and I felt death come for me.

It happened faster than I thought: I hadn't been killed, not really. I was simply…falling asleep…

Then the darkness closed over my empty sockets, and it was finally over.

* * *

Or so I thought.

I don't know how much time passed after I blacked out. Before I knew it, I was…awake?

Alive?

I was still on Mardum, and yet, I wasn't. I recognized the features of the world around me: the blasted canyons, the crater-filled wastelands. But the colors were off: everything was painted in a dull gray.

And I felt…lighter, somehow. Something—instinct, perhaps—made me look down…and I stared in horror.

I had no body. I scowled, and berated myself. Of course I had no body. I had been a night elf in life; naturally I would become a wisp in death. So this was it: I would remain a ghost, a spirit forever wandering the twisted landscape of Mardum. A foolish hope, that—even death was no escape from the Burning Legion. The souls we had harvested were proof enough of that.

The bigger mystery was how I was still here, wherever 'here' was. I had become a monster, an abomination—I highly doubted any of the druids of Moonglade considered me worthy of salvation. Yet here I was, a free-floating wisp, no different from any other elf that had gone to his final rest.

But was that what this was? Perhaps all the dead were confined to their dying place. If that was the case, then my afterlife was going to be extremely depressing.

 _Interesting. Like me, you have an immortal demon soul._

I jumped at the sound of his voice…or I would have, if I still had legs to jump with. It was all very confusing, to be honest.

But even in death, I recognized that voice immediately.

"Master?" I called out. "Are you here? What's happening?"

 _Do you not remember? You sacrificed yourself to empower the portal._

"I remember everything," I replied. "I died. So why am I here? Or, where is 'here'?"

 _You cannot truly die. Instead, your soul will make its way to the Twisting Nether. There, you will wait until you can find a suitable body to inhabit._

"Like a demon body?" I asked. "I'm not sure I want that."

 _Then I suggest you get a move on, while there is still time. You are demon, and yet you are not. The part of you that is not demon is what is keeping you here._

"This isn't death…is it?" I asked.

 _It is the in-between, in a sense. You came here to be reborn. As for_ how _you are reborn…_

"I can come back? As…me?" I asked eagerly.

 _If you can reach your own corpse in time, yes. The part of you that remains elven—your sense of self—is what allows you to exploit your demonic immortality in order to cheat death. A loophole, of sorts._

As it turned out, floating in death took just as little effort as walking in life. Though I had no muscles, I could feel myself being carried toward my physical body as the desire to live grew stronger. I had never wanted to die, truly, but I had never wanted my friends to die, either.

"Are you still there?" I wondered. "Master?"

There was no response. Lord Illidan would not be answering for his bizarre challenges any time soon, it seemed. I was on my own.

Even so, I realized that I had been correct: this had been just one more test. Whether or not I passed depended on finding my body.

It was right where I had left it, and I felt a strange force pulling at me as my spirit seeped in through the wound where Kor'vas had struck me.

Then, I was back. Actually back, and I breathed in deeply. I was alive once more. Flexing my fingers—I had fingers!—I reached up to feel my own face, and knew just how true it was. Feeling along my chest and side, I almost couldn't believe it—the wound had sealed itself, as if Kor'vas had never killed me to begin with.

Kor'vas! Where was Kor'vas? Where were any of them? Looking around, I saw that they had all left the scene of my death, probably moving on to seize our prize. I had to catch up with them. Luckily, they had seen fit not to take my glaives, probably wanting to leave my corpse as undisturbed as possible.

"May the goddess bless them for that," I said, sheathing my warglaives and breaking into a run.

The portal had already been activated, which meant that the shivarra had arrived and joined the rest of our forces. With the Illidari fully assembled, I would find my fellow demon hunters at the foothold our forces had established. The base lay just a few yards away from the Inferno Peak. I immediately headed in that direction.

After my brief experience as a wisp, my physical form felt heavier in comparison. Still I pushed myself on, admiring the Illidari's handiwork along the way. Severed demons and unrecognizable body parts littered the ground along the path to the volcano. Clearly my fellow hunters had taken the opportunity to vent their rage.

Eventually I had to stop, for the path suddenly broke off in a cliff. It continued on some distance away, but the gap was too far to jump across. I could see the makings of a camp just up ahead. How was I going to—

A loud growl answered my question, and I turned with glee to see Kirasath bounding toward me. I couldn't help but laugh as his bony head rubbed against my chest.

"You're quite stubborn, my friend," I told him, mounting up. "But thank Elune you are."

As Kirasath leapt across the broken walkway, I considered my own words. Could the goddess still be watching over us, we who bore the images of her sworn enemies? As with any deity, it was impossible to know for sure, but after what had just happened, a little faith couldn't hurt.

"Anyone miss me?" I asked leaping from my mount.

Mardum was filled with noise: the sound of blades clashing, demon fires crackling, and cannons exploding everywhere. But in the silence that greeted me, you could have heard a pin drop.

"Impossible…" breathed Kayn.

"It can't be," added Jace.

"You're…alive?" asked Kor'vas.

Hesitantly, she raised her hand. I closed my eyes and sighed as I felt her fingers on my chest, running along my side where she had struck. Her touch was gentle, even cautious, as if Kor'vas were afraid I would shatter at the slightest touch.

"I killed you," she said in disbelief.

"And yet, here I am," I replied, grinning. "Normally, I'm not one to criticize your fighting skills, but…"

Now she didn't bother to be gentle, and landed a solid punch on my left shoulder.

"Yep, he's alive," she muttered.

The others laughed as the ice finally began to thaw.

"Kayn, status update," I ordered.

"The shivarra have joined the naga and broken in assaulting the volcano," he reported, before looking at me thoughtfully. "You know, true leadership is hard to come by. Leading by example as you did—"

"Save the speech until after we've retrieved the keystone and defended the Black Temple," I told him. "We're not out of this yet. Until then, no more talk of leadership. We either go home together, or not at all."

"Well, with our forces all assembled, we're just about ready to assault Brood Queen Tyranna's command center," finished Kayn.

I lifted my gaze to the skies above. Sure enough, a great fortress of volcanic rock floated right next to the volcano. The Legion's construction was almost as big as the mountain itself.

"Then it's time to finish this," I replied. "Let's mount up and grab that keystone!"

Only after the felbats dropped us off on one of the balconies did I realize how massive the fortress was. It was like a volcano in itself, suspended in the air and raining down fire and death from above: a weapon and a base, all in one.

"I can sense her power from here," said Cyana, shivering uncontrollably. "I'd better hang back and secure our escape."

Looking over at her with concern, I could tell that Cyana wasn't faking it. The once-aggressive elf now looked like she was beginning to crack.

"Alright, find the portal chamber," I told her. "Just…take it easy, ok? Don't strain yourself."

Cyana nodded gratefully, hugging herself as she took some deep breaths. The elf looked like someone who was trying to avoid being frozen solid, but I knew that there was plenty of fire burning away within her.

The outside platform on which we had landed led to a balcony on the inside of the ship. A pair of ramps led down, and I could see another balcony on the other side of the room. Perfect symmetry.

"This place is completely empty," remarked Jace.

"Where is this spider-bitch?" asked Allari, readying her scythe.

As we made our way toward the very center of the room, I frowned. Something was wrong—my senses were either going haywire, or trying to tell me something important.

"Wait," said Belath. "Spiders…"

I immediately reached the same conclusion moments before a loud shriek echoed throughout the chamber.

"Move!" I yelled, diving out of the way as our enemy came crashing down from above.

"You demon hunters are _nothing_!" shrieked the Brood Queen. "The keystone was entrusted to _me_ by Sargeras himself! You will not have it!"

In addition to the natural abilities of her arachnid counterpart, Brood Queen Tyranna also had the powers of a demon at her command. Shadowy magic flew everywhere, sticking to the walls like dark webbing. Allari and Jace, who had been standing at a distance casting their spells, were now forced to go on the defensive as the shadowy webs exploded, coating the walls with a thick, foul-smelling ooze.

Those of us fighting up close had our hands full, as well. As the others grappled with the queen's multiple claws and barbed wings, an invisible force lifted me into the air.

"None can resist my kiss," taunted the Brood Queen.

Repulsed, I channeled magic of my own, unleashing a blast of demonic fire right in her face. Tyranna screamed in surprise and agony as the flames ate away at her flesh. Below, the others continued to strike at her, carving into her spindly limbs and cleaving through solid bone.

"Come forth, my children!" yelled the Brood Queen. "Feast upon our enemies!"

Unfurling her wings, she flew back up to the ceiling as demonic spiders dropped down to surround us. Jace and Allari combined their fel magics into a single spell, and the resulting wave of magic incinerated the queen's 'children.'

Tyranna shrieked as she engaged us once again. Now we had angered her, and the Brood Queen retaliated with a flurry of claws and shadow magic, pushing us to the brink.

"There's only one way this ends!" I yelled. "Nothing, you say? Perhaps we should show you what nothing _really_ looks like!"

Reaching into the darkest recesses of my subconscious, I grabbed at the anger I had kept hidden for so long. The rage, the fury, the hate…it all came rushing to the surface. A great roar emerged from my mouth, and I felt myself changing. Again the wings erupted from behind, but now I grew larger as the horns atop my head lengthened. Hearing similar roars all around me, I knew my fellow Illidari now channeled their own monsters to use against the Brood Queen.

Together, we struck at her. Over and over, we rained countless glaive strikes and felbolts down upon her, incinerating, slashing, gouging, and burning. There was nothing but fury and a desire for destruction. There was so much power…why had I denied myself this strength for so long?

But even as I asked the question, I knew the answer, and I had to fight not to lose myself to bloodlust as the orcs once had. It was all about focus, and I willed myself to focus all my destructive power on the one demon before me.

"What are you!?" she screamed as we tore her apart.

"We're demon hunters," I spat.

With one final, bestial shriek, the Brood Queen tumbled to the floor. A small, green crystal rolled away from her dying grasp.

I breathed hard and forced myself back to calm as my transformation ended. The others would be able to do the same if they saw their leader under control. Reaching down and plucking the keystone from the floor, I stared at my reflection in its unassuming surface.

Yes, I was a leader, whether I liked it or not. But like Illidan, I would lead by example, never asking anything that I also wasn't prepared to give.

"Let's get down to the portal chamber and go home, while we still have one," said Kayn.

"To the Black Temple!" I yelled, snapping out of my reverie. "There's no time to waste!"

The doorways on either side of the two balconies led to the lower levels. There, we found an empty gateway waiting for us.

"Now, take us to Outland," I commanded. "Take us to the Black Temple."

The crystal in my palm responded, floating up and shooting a beam of fel energy at the gateway. A portal flared to life within its metal frame, and I wasted no time in leaping through. Time was not our ally, but I hoped that retrieving the keystone would still count for something.

* * *

It didn't.

"No! Lord Illidan has fallen!" said Kayn.

Impossible! I shook my head in desperation, trying in vain to deny the reality before me.

Our master floated in the air, encased within a large, fel-green crystal.

He was not moving.

I felt hatred rising within me as I recognized the familiar forms of those surrounding him. There was no mistaking the unique pattern of that gilded, owl-like armor.

"Wardens…" I growled.

Without thinking, I leapt forward, warglaives at the ready. Kor'vas was right behind me.

"Illidari! Avenge the master!" she yelled.

The wardens were experts in the fields of combat and assassination. Their armor was tough, and their moonglaives were sharp enough to slice open throats with a single blow.

They fell as easily as any demon beneath my strikes. It was all too easy; combat experts they may have been, but these were still night elves who clung to their ideals of justice and valor. They were nothing in the face of true power.

But as I suddenly charged the last of them in a blind rage, I felt my movements slow to a stop, my muscles locking in place. I struggled with all my might against the spell, but to no avail. All around me, the other Illidari suffered the same fate.

And all this from a single warden. There was no doubt in my mind: behind the regal, owl-like helmet glared the face of Maiev Shadowsong. Against my will, my fingers loosened, and my warglaives clattered to the floor. Similar sounds of metal weapons hitting stone indicated that my fellow demon hunters were suffering from the same torment I endured.

"You bear the mark of _his_ corruption," she hissed. "And so, the demon's blood within you…will be your _prison_!"

I had felt pain before. I had been torn apart by demons and burned by fel magic. I had allowed my own eyes to be burned out, stood by as Kor'vas struck me down. But nothing compared to the agony I felt in that moment as Maiev ripped the blood from my body. All I could do was watch as my own blood became crystal, and the crystal rose up on all sides to imprison me as it had Lord Illidan.

The one thing that made it all worse was knowing how many others would share my fate. All of them: Kayn, Belath, Asha, Cyana, Jace, Allari, Kor'vas…

Kor'vas…

"Take them to the Vault," I heard Maiev say. "There, they shall be with the Betrayer… _forever_."


	9. Old Wounds and New Beginnings

_Hey guys, thanks so much for reading my story, hope everyone's enjoying it so far! There's still more to come, so let's get to it! Please continue to read and review! Let me know what you like, let me know what you don't!_

 _Disclaimer: I do not own World of Warcraft, which is the property of Blizzard Entertainment. I make no money from this story, which is specifically for entertainment purposes._

Chapter 9: Old Wounds and New Beginnings

Darkness. Silence. These were my constant companions. I could not move save to breathe, for the Wardens would not permit me the luxury of death. Yet I remained conscious, my mind open to thought…along with the insanity that gradually threatened to consume me over the course of my imprisonment.

We, the greatest threat to the Burning Legion that had ever existed, were now little more than brains in jars, helpless and vulnerable to the merciless ravages of uncertainty. There was no way of knowing how much time had passed, and this proved to be the most sadistic form of torture the Wardens could produce. It could have been thousands of years, or only a few minutes. Illidan's story of imprisonment was legendary—the Master had been locked away for ten-thousand years.

I doubted I'd last that long.

Even worse than the unknown was the shame and guilt of what I _did_ know: failure. I had accepted my role as leader under Illidan…and led my brothers and sisters to their doom. Even with the Wardens' magic supporting us, we would all die here, shriveling up within these tiny prisons once our long, torturous sentence had run its course.

So it was with hatred that I glared at Maiev Shadowsong as she approached my cell. Even through the blurry, translucent crystal, her armored form stood tall, a proud and imposing figure. Had I been able to move, I would have grinned with malice, maybe even spat at her. Did she think to add to my torment with harsh words or physical torture? If so, she would find no satisfaction. The Wardens knew nothing of true pain.

"Illidari, I've spent my entire life as keeper of the wicked," she announced. "Thousands of years, my only solace knowing the world is kept safe from _your kind_."

The blurriness cleared away as Maiev drew closer, leaning right into the crystal so that we were face-to-face. She stabbed an armored finger right at my head, and a horrible screeching assaulted my ears as the Warden scraped along the crystal's surface.

"But…I would do _anything_ to save Azeroth!" she declared.

Maiev suddenly drew her glaive, and swung it in a vicious arc. I fell to the floor as my prison shattered into pieces. And suddenly, I could move again—though stiff from disuse, my muscles responded immediately, and I pushed myself up from the cold stone.

"…even if it means releasing you," she finished.

The Warden strode over to the nearby weapons rack, and I saw my old warglaives hanging there, waiting for my release like an old friend. They now sailed through the air as Maiev threw them in my direction. I caught them with ease, surprising myself—my reflexes remained as sharp as ever.

"Will you help us, demon hunter?" she asked.

"Help _you_?" I snarled. "I should kill you where you stand for what you have done!"

And I was genuinely tempted to, but two things kept me in check: the first was the memory of how, without batting an eye, Maiev had defeated not just me, but an entire army of demon hunters on her own.

The second reason came from the Warden herself.

"And then you will be torn apart by the Burning Legion!" she retorted. "Did you think I freed you out of mercy?"

"So once again the demons have returned, and you call on the aid of the very same monsters you locked away," I sneered. "Some things never change."

"I have neither the time nor the inclination to stand here debating with you," she said. "We cannot fight our way out of the vault alone, and I will need the aid of the Illidari to stop Gul'dan."

I wanted nothing more than to seek vengeance for what she had done to us, but Maiev's words rang true. My knuckles tightened around the warglaives as I forced myself to accept reality.

"Fine," I spat. "But don't think this makes us friends. What must we do?"

"Two of your allies, Kayn Sunfury and Altruis the Sufferer, are imprisoned within this room," answered Maiev. "Their strength will be of great use to us."

I scowled as she marched out of the chamber. In any other instance, I would have left Altruis to rot—the Alliance and Horde would have never breached the walls of the Black Temple in the first place if not for him. But necessity required me to put aside old hatreds…for now.

"I am…awake?" asked Kayn as he stepped out from the shattered remains of his prison. "How is this possible?"

"Rise, brother," I told him. "The Burning Legion has returned, and Azeroth has need of us once more."

"I fight by your side," he answered, saluting.

With extreme reluctance, I freed the other prisoner in this cell block.

"How many years were wasted in that cell?" asked Altruis, stumbling out as if in a stupor.

"Altruis," said Kayn curtly.

I placed a hand on Kayn's shoulder, stopping him from dismembering the traitor.

"Now's not the time," I said, looking at both of them. "There are other foes more deserving of our wrath."

I saw how true this was as the three of us stepped out into a much larger chamber. The demons had already broken through, and one of Maiev's Wardens was currently doing battle against swarms of felstalkers.

"After we stop the Legion, you will have much to answer for, Altruis," I heard Kayn say.

"I make no apologies for my actions," replied the night elf. "In the end, I could not follow Illidan's ways. He was falling to the demonic taint, and becoming more like his sworn enemies."

I sighed, shaking my head sadly at the traitor's words. If only Altruis knew just how wrong he was.

"Enough," I said. "We are all still reeling from our long imprisonment. There is but one thing that can restore our strength, and we have it in multitudes."

"Agreed, but we remain outnumbered," said Kayn. "We will need more allies if we are to escape intact. More Illidari await their release."

"Two birds, one stone," I replied, leaping down the stairs into the mass of demons.

Kayn and Altruis followed me into the fray, and together we hacked our way through the sea of teeth, scales, and claws. I soon felt my strength return in full—for every demon that tore open my flesh, about three more were sliced apart by my glaives. Their thick green blood splashed on me, burning intensely, and any wounds I received were immediately healed. More and more blood covered us as we tore the demons apart. It had been too long since we fought like this—far too long.

A squad of felguard soon joined the fray, even as more felstalkers continued to bound forward. Maiev was right—the demons were never-ending, and we'd be quickly overrun if we focused on this fight alone. The Illidari were needed elsewhere.

Ducking under an axe swing, I impaled a felguard in the chest with one glaive, before decapitating it with the other. The twisted, skull-like head went bouncing into the mob of demons as Kayn and Altruis continued to dispatch our opponents. Satisfied that the two of them could keep the demons at bay, I leapt out toward the borders of the room where the Illidari were being kept. Running along the walkway, I shattered the crystal prisons lining the walls, and one by one, my brethren leapt out to do battle with the Legion.

"The portals!" I shouted down at them. "Get those gateways closed!"

Below, the Illidari nodded, and began cleaving their way toward the glowing green portals. The demons closed ranks around the gateways, but to no avail: every demon hunter was worth at least five felguard on his own. I had forgotten how relentless we could be—seeing my comrades overwhelm the Legion now reminded me that the Illidari truly were unstoppable.

As the fight continued below, I kept bolstering our ranks: every demon hunter would be freed, every crystal prison shattered.

"Are you alright?" I asked as Cyana stumbled out of her cell.

"Years and years with only the voices in my head…" she groaned, shivering. "I thought I would go insane."

"You're free now," I assured her. "Your brethren await your aid."

Slowly, she nodded, and leapt down to join the others. I watched in concern as she began hacking away at the felstalkers. Cyana had always been a bit unstable, and our long imprisonment couldn't have done her any favors. I just hoped that being among friends again could help her through it.

The next to emerge was Jace, and he gratefully took my hand as I helped him up.

"I will join the others," he vowed. "For the Illidari!"

Only a few remained trapped now. I frowned, scanning the walls in desperation as the demon hunters below continued to do battle with the demons. Most of my comrades had been freed, but where was—

There.

Leaping off the walkway, I dashed through the air, gliding over the crazed, bloodthirsty mass of demons and demon hunters hacking each other to pieces. My fingers just barely managed to grab onto the stone ledge on the other side of the room. Determination pulled me up, and I braced my hands against the smooth, green crystal as I stared at its occupant. Even imprisoned, she was as beautiful as ever.

"You've waited long enough," I said, swinging my glaive at the crystal.

Kor'vas stumbled out as her prison shattered, and I reached up to catch her.

"…Vel?" she asked. "Where—"

"Shhh, it's alright," I said, stroking her hair. "All that matters is that we're here. We're _alive_ , Kor."

The sounds of the brutal melee quickly awakened her, and Kor'vas separated herself from me.

"And once again, we are called to fight," she answered. "I am ready."

I nodded solemnly, tossing her a set of warglaives. Her devotion had always been Kor'vas' most admirable trait. Even now, I marveled at how quickly she answered the call, leaping down to tear her way through the invaders. I knew better than to worry; mere moments after being freed, Kor'vas became a storm of wrath and fury, tearing the limbs off felstalkers and dismembering felguards.

Finally, all the demon hunters were freed, and with the last of the portals destroyed, the demons quickly met the same fate. For the time being, this chamber had been cleared.

"Illidari, to me!" I announced. "We're getting out of here!"

At my rallying call, they followed me down the corridor and out of the cell block. The large cavern that greeted us revealed that the Wardens had sunk their prison deep within the earth. More felstalkers leapt out from the darkness as the path continued to lead ever upward. The upper levels had to be crawling with the Legion's forces. But the Illidari were now united, and we smashed our way through the invaders with ease.

Eventually, a large, circular door greeted us…and it glowed bright green with the power of the fel. Maiev stood nearby, seething in obvious frustration.

"Gul'dan could never access this chamber!" she exclaimed. "One of my Wardens has betrayed me!"

I didn't reply, but simply grinned in smug satisfaction. The knowledge had to sting—her ally had become an enemy, and vice-versa.

"I too have felt betrayed by my own kind," said Kayn, glaring over at Altruis.

"What lies beyond this door?" I asked, trying yet again to postpone the inevitable.

"Your master," replied Maiev. "After his defeat at the Black Temple, we brought Illidan's lifeless body here."

"And Gul'dan now seeks to get his hands on the Master's body?" asked Kor'vas, horrified.

I mentally prepared myself for whatever lay behind the door. Even in death, Illidan's body would contain a large amount of the power he wielded in life. Small wonder the Legion would stage an entire invasion just to seize it.

Raising her glaive into the air, Maiev began to chant, and a bright beam of moonlight shot out toward the door. I watched as it hit the mark of fel dead-center, clearing away the demonic taint and unlocking the magical bindings keeping the door in place.

The chamber housing our master was dark, but even in the absence of light, I could see that Illidan was gone. In the center of the large platform stood a Warden, glowing with fel energy. At her side was an elderly orc holding a staff, his eyes glowing a bright red. I could smell the demonic taint on him. He had died long before the creation of demon hunters. Lord Illidan himself had carried the old orc's skull around with him. And yet, here he was, alive and well: Gul'dan the Warlock.

"Cordana!" shouted Maiev. "You will answer to the High Council for this!"

"Judge me all you like, sister," replied the traitorous Warden, "but you cannot stop us."

"Where is our master?" I demanded, glaring at Gul'dan.

"You are too late," he replied smugly. "This vault will be your tomb."

Three massive portals appeared behind him. As Gul'dan and Cordana began to walk toward one, a pair of giant mo'arg lumbered out of the other two.

"Demon hunters," said Maiev. "You have to survive. Find the one named Archmage Khadgar. You can trust him."

"What are you talking about?" I asked suspiciously.

"Illidan is still my charge!" she yelled, bounding through the portal.

"Damn it!" I cursed, chasing after her.

But it was too late; the portals closed, leaving us in the darkened chamber with the two giant demons.

"Illidari!" I shouted. "We fight as one!"

"Just like old times, eh Kayn?" asked Altruis, dancing around the mo'arg.

"Do not speak to me of old times, Altruis," snarled the blood elf, as he tore a chunk out of one of the demon's large, meaty chests. "You betrayed Illidan. You betrayed us all!"

"After ten-thousand years of imprisonment, Illidan succumbed to the fel energy within," argued Altruis. "When he was freed, he was not in his right mind."

I scoffed, ducking under one of the demons' giant blades and slashing across its backside. They were debating this _now_?

"They're never going to let this go, you know that," said Kor'vas.

"Believe me, I know" I replied. "I'd just prefer they settle their differences when we're _not_ trying to avoid death and dismemberment."

"He was fighting it, as we all do!" shouted Kayn. "He needed us to have _faith_ in him, Altruis!"

"I don't suppose you have an opinion to weigh in on all this?" asked Allari.

She scorched one of the mo'arg with felfire, and the giant demon howled as the green flames licked across its mottled flesh. Still smoking, the great brute fell to the floor with a crash.

"I will happily make my opinions known, provided we make it out of here alive," I told her. "I have higher priorities than—"

"You followed Illidan blindly, like a dog," challenged Altruis. "Even when he lost his way!"

"He made the hard choices!" yelled Kayn. "He sacrificed EVERYTHING! What did _you_ give?"

"I fought as hard as any of you! But I did not murder thousands of innocents!"

"ENOUGH!" I roared, plunging my glaives into the chest of the remaining demon.

My anger clearly fueled this final strike, for the other mo'arg let out a heavy wail of agony as its blackened heart came flying out the other end. As I rode the demon to the floor, I watched the foul organ tumble into the darkness below.

"We have bigger things to worry about," I told them. "Like how we're getting out of here."

"There should be a lift or elevator of some kind out there," said Kor'vas, backing me up. "Let's move!"

"Right, you heard the Warden," said Kayn. "We are the only ones who can defeat the Legion. We MUST survive this place."

As we proceeded out of the chamber, Altruis spoke up again.

"Fool," he spat. "You would trust the Warden? She hates us almost as much as the Legion!"

I scowled—it was becoming increasingly difficult to tolerate his hypocrisy. But before I could reply, Kayn beat me to the punch.

"You trust no one and nothing, Altruis," retorted the blood elf. "You are a leader with no followers."

As luck would have it, the elevator's magic had been destroyed. But we were nothing if not resourceful, and Jace led us over to where a multitude of fel bats thrashed against the demonic energies of a large cage

"These should help reach the floors above," he said.

"Let's ride," I said, unbinding the magics and hopping on.

* * *

When we emerged into the chamber at the top of the shaft, it became clear that the demons were running the prison. Felstalkers roamed the halls, sniffing for magic and flesh alike. Felguard stomped around in tow, glaring around in search of a fight. And there wasn't a Warden in sight.

"Sheer madness," said Kor'vas. "The Wardens have lost control of their prison."

"Something tells me it's not just the demons we need to worry about," I replied.

"The Wardens kept all kinds of dangerous monsters locked up within this Vault," she explained. "Now that Gul'dan's forces have breached the walls, it's proving rather... inconvenient."

"Any idea what we're dealing with?" asked Belath.

Jace pounded his fists together, focusing his magic.

"The heat of the Firelands…" he said. "And…an eye? Yes, I sense the presence of both a magma giant and an observer. The Wardens likely erected counter-measures in each of their chambers."

"Right, then we'll split into two teams," I said. "Kor'vas, take Belath, Kayn, and Asha and deal with the giant. Cyana, Altruis, Allari, and Jace, you're with me. We'll meet back here once the beasts have been secured. Be careful."

* * *

"This place is done for," I said, as the elevator carried us up to the ground floor of the Vault.

I had to wonder if securing Ash'golm and Glazer would even make a difference in the long run—with all the demons that continued to pour in, the two would probably just break out all over again. But we had at least bought ourselves some time for now.

"We're nearly out," said Kor'vas reassuringly. "And we're all still in one piece."

"That's something," I agreed. "Now, if we can just catch up to Kayn and Altruis before they murder each other…"

Almost immediately after we had secured the two monsters, Altruis had made a run for it…and Kayn, of course, had chased after him. The rest of us had been stuck waiting for the elevator after the pair of them had caught the first two rides up.

As the elevator reached its destination, I quickly leapt off it, bounding down the halls toward the antechamber...and groaned at the sight that awaited us.

Kayn and Altruis were now at each other's throats…literally. The two elves were locked in combat, a flurry of glaives and claws and felbolts.

"Stop this foolish bickering!" yelled Kor'vas. "We do not have time for this!"

"Lord Illidan taught us to fight," said Kayn, slashing out at Altruis' midsection. "To persevere. Together, we destroyed countless demons! _You_ chose the coward's path!"

Altruis just barely evaded the attack, following up with his own.

"I could only trust my own sight, brother!" he protested. "Lord Illidan was becoming no better than our enemy!"

"You killed our own people!" raged the blood elf, parrying and delivering a counter. "You spit in the face of our sacrifices!"

"There's no stopping them, is there?" I asked.

"I fear they'll end up dueling to the death," replied Kor'vas.

"Personally, I'd be perfectly fine with that, if I could be sure Kayn would emerge the victor," I muttered.

"But you're not going to risk his life, are you?" she asked worriedly. "You're the leader of the Illidari now, Vel. They'll stop if you order them to."

I sighed heavily. Sometimes leadership could be a real pain.

"Stand down!" I ordered, leaping forward. "Both of you!"

Thrusting my blade between them, I shoved both elves away from each other.

"We cannot afford to fight with each other," I told them. "Not now, of all times!"

"I support the Illidari, now and forever," vowed Kayn. "You know where my loyalties lie, brother!"

"I have made my case," said Altruis, completely unrepentant. "The Illidari were being corrupted under Illidan's leadership."

"It is clear the Illidari haven't enough room for the both of us," sneered the blood elf. "Velscar, you must choose. Which of us shall be cast out?"

I could feel a massive headache coming on, and it had nothing to do with the fel. Rather than respond, I turned around to face the other demon hunters.

"Well?" persisted Altruis. "You must choose!"

"Be silent!" I commanded.

Striding toward the Illidari, I stopped just a few feet away from Kor'vas.

"The differences between our two brothers are irredeemable," I announced. "I have already made my decision. But as your leader, it is my duty to hear yours. Think, now. Think on our previous missions, our attacks against the Legion. Is Altruis correct? Were we slowly becoming what we fought to destroy? Or does Kayn speak the truth? Is this a battle that none can fight alone, one we would have lost without Illidan's guidance? This is as much your choice as it is mine."

The demon hunters assembled before me muttered amongst themselves in response to my question, and I waited patiently. None of them answered my question with words, but they didn't need to—I could see it clearly written on their faces. I nodded, satisfied.

"You say that Illidan was corrupting us, turning us into monsters no different from the Legion," I said to Altruis. "How do you justify this, when you yourself took the ritual? You are no different than any of us."

"I believed in Illidan once, too," he admitted. "But I see now what he truly was: the Betrayer, through and through. Ten-thousand years had turned Illidan Stormrage into a monster."

"You believe that his battle in Felwood was an act of betrayal?"

"I do."

"You think that Illidan, in training us to oppose the Legion, was instead transforming us into demons?"

"Yes."

"Were you with us on our mission to annihilate the doom lord Azgoth?" I asked, interested.

"I…I was not," answered Altruis hesitantly.

"Were you there the day the Alliance and the Horde invaded Outland?"

"I was not," he replied.

"Where were you, brother?"

"I was seeking a way to save you all," said Altruis. "I sought a way to redeem the Illidari, to topple Illidan and—"

"You allied yourself with the Alliance and the Horde," snarled Kayn. "Led them right to our doorstep!"

To his credit, Altruis stood his ground bravely. The night elf faced us head-on as he answered the charges against him.

"Yes," he proclaimed loudly, not a single trace of remorse on his face.

What little restraint I had left vanished in that moment. Before Altruis could react, I charged forward, grabbed him by the throat, and lifted him into the air.

"You say Lord Illidan had gone mad after his imprisonment, yet still you sought him out," I snarled. "You called him the Betrayer, and yet you showed no hesitation in selling out those who had fought at your side."

Altruis tried to respond. I tightened my grip, digging my claws into his throat.

"While we raided Legion worlds and destroyed their commanders, you rallied the very armies that sought our heads," I told him. "So I ask again, Altruis: who is the betrayer here? Where were _you_ the day the Black Temple fell? You, who claim that Lord Illidan was corrupting us, were not there to see him sacrifice _himself!_ You, who express such distrust of the Wardens, still harbor the same disgust toward Illidan as Maiev!"

I was genuinely tempted to kill him right then and there. But more than hatred, I felt disgust. Everything Kayn had said about him was correct—the sacrifices we had made, the battles we had won, the lives we had saved…it all meant nothing to Altruis. He was still possessed of the same destructive sense of self-righteousness that ruled most of Azeoth's denizens.

He wasn't worth killing.

I loosened my grip, throwing him to the floor.

"You are a disgrace," I told him, spitting at his feet. "Lord Illidan gave us _everything_ , and you threw it all away. Every life lost at the Black Temple, every drop of blood spilled is on _your_ hands, Altruis. I can only imagine the self-loathing you must feel, to want to destroy the only family you've ever had. My pity is the only thing saving you this day. Leave my sight at once—there is no place for you in the Illidari."

"I see there is no convincing you," Altruis replied sadly, rising to his feet. "Very well, I will take my leave. Beware that you do not share Illidan's fate."

I roared, brandishing my glaive in warning, and Altruis fled from the Vault of the Wardens, Illidari no more.


	10. An Uneasy Alliance

_Hi readers, I'm really sorry about the huge delay, but I wanted to make this chapter as good as possible. Looks like people are still reading, so I'll still be writing! Here's another chapter for your viewing pleasure! Please continue to read and review!_

 _Disclaimer: I do not own World of Warcraft, which is the property of Blizzard Entertainment. I make no monetary profit from this story, which is solely for entertainment purposes._

Chapter 10: An Uneasy Alliance

"I hope I did the right thing," I muttered, the confrontation with Altruis still playing in my mind.

Behind me, Kor'vas gently placed her hand on my shoulder.

"You were faced with a hard decision, one that affects us all," she said. "Rather than choose for us, you sought our council."

"No other leader could have done better," agreed Jace.

I still felt uneasy about the whole thing. Forgiving Altruis was out of the question, but the elf had still been one of us…once upon a time. Shaking my head, I tried to clear away these troubling thoughts.

"We're finally out," I said, breathing in deeply. "Finally free."

"Aye, we escaped the Vault," agreed Kayn, "but our work is far from over. The Legion's assault on this world is just beginning. If Azeroth is to survive, we may have to work with this…Archmage Khadgar."

Frowning, I considered the name Maiev had left behind. The title of Archmage obviously implied a station of great power. Was this Khadgar a commander in the fight against the Legion?

As if in response to my thoughts, the air before us began to shimmer with the makings of a portal, and I instinctively drew my warglaives. All around me, the other Illidari readied themselves for combat.

But this portal was not like those used by the Legion—rather than the destructive power of fel, it glowed with mysterious arcane energies.

An older human stepped through—or at least, he was physically old. Despite the appearance of great age, I sensed great power about him, enough to rival Lord Illidan himself. Here was a true sorcerer, and a powerful one at that.

"I am Archmage Khadgar," he proclaimed. "Leader of the Kirin Tor."

The blood elves in our ranks had shared stories of the old Alliance of Lordaeron, and so I recognized the name of the magical order. Standing upright and sheathing my blades, I stepped forward.

"Velscar," I told him. "Leader of the Illidari in Lord Illidan's absence."

"Well met, Velscar," replied Khadgar. "And to all demon hunters, as well. But there is little time for pleasantries. Azeroth needs your help."

"We fight to end the Burning Legion," I vowed. "My brethren are united in that cause. What is the situation?"

"The Legion has already begun its invasion of our world," he explained. "Across Kalimdor and the Eastern Kingdoms, brave defenders from both the Alliance and the Horde are answering the call to arms."

I felt tension brewing behind me at the mention of Lord Illidan's killers. I wasn't particularly enthusiastic about aiding the armies of Azeroth, myself. But Khadgar's next words caught my attention.

"However, they will ultimately fail without your aid," he said. "You Illidari were uniquely trained as weapons against the Legion."

"And what would you have us do?" I asked.

"For the sake of Azeroth, join with those you have the most reason to despise," said Khadgar. "Join with the Alliance and the Horde, and save our world."

At his words, the portal behind the archmage now split in two. I could make out the shape of a human castle in one. The other portal contained a variety of orcish-looking structures. I frowned, considering the archmage carefully. It could have been a trap: Maiev could have lied to us, led us to this Khadgar for the purpose of allowing the Alliance and the Horde to finish what they had started all those years ago. A number of possible scenarios played through my mind, each ending with death and dismemberment. I shook my head, willing away the paranoia. If that were the case, Maiev would have executed us long ago. Instead, she had chosen to free the Illidari for the sake of Azeroth. It now fell to me to take up that charge.

Sighing heavily, I turned to face the Illidari.

"Sacrifice," I told them. "It means to give of one's self for another, no matter the cost. That is what we have done to destroy the Burning Legion: time and again, we have sacrificed. And that is what we must do now: we must sacrifice our hate and our rage, and ally with those who once sought to destroy us."

As expected, various mutterings of uncertainty greeted my words.

"I know!" I told them. "It is not an easy thing to accomplish. I must be asking the impossible—ally with those who took everything from us? Madness! And yet our losses will be as nothing compared to what the Burning Legion will take from us! You all know this to be true!"

They certainly agreed with that.

"Then I ask you to do as the Master taught us," I said. " _Sacrifice_. Focus on the greater good. Keep in mind what we _all_ fight for, and yes, ally with those who once sought to do us harm. For there is only one true enemy, and if we stand united, it cannot prevail. So what say you? Can we bury old hatreds to forge new bonds of kinship? Or will we do the Legion's work for them?"

"We will fight for Azeroth!" vowed Kor'vas.

"For Azeroth!" answered the Illidari.

"Then form up!" I ordered. "The kaldorei shall accompany me to Stormwind, while the sindorei follow Kayn Sunfury to Orgrimmar! Though we approach as allies, we must also recognize that some wounds remain slow to heal. Better that we reconcile with our own kind first. Be vigilant! The Legion's spies may lurk anywhere!"

As the sindorei began marching toward the portal to Orgrimmar, Kayn turned to frown at me.

"You would entrust me with command?" he asked doubtfully.

"I would trust you, brother," I replied. "Keep them in line; the last thing we need is more enemies."

The blood elf gave a salute, before stepping through the portal himself. As I watched the sindorei depart, I felt Kor'vas slip her fingers in between mine.

"Ready to go meet our new allies?" she asked, a hint of uncertainty in her voice.

"As ready as I'll ever be," I told her, knowing the reason behind her anxiety.

"I can see why Illidan chose you to lead them," said Khadgar. "You have a stable head and a sharp mind. Admirable traits."

"Don't think this makes us friends just yet, Archmage," I warned him. "In many ways, the blood elves will receive a far better reception in Orgrimmar than we will among certain leaders of the Alliance. You know of whom I speak."

The wizard's face became stern once more as he processed the truth of my words.

"I assure you, for better or worse, the leaders of the Alliance seek the Legion's end," he replied neutrally. " _All_ of them."

As the last of the kaldorei departed through the portal, I took a deep breath to steady myself.

"Let's hope so," I said.

With that, Kor'vas and I stepped forward to join the Alliance.

* * *

Even with my enhanced eyesight, I still found myself looking around in surprise. The fortress I had glimpsed through the portal had been enormous, but now I realized that it was only one small part of this city. The heart of the Alliance was even more populated than Darnassus—buildings lined every street, each a shop or dwelling of some kind. And every which way, humans of all shapes, sizes, colors, and statuses raced to and from their various destinations. I could not recall having ever seen so many people together in the same place.

"Welcome to Stormwind," announced Khadgar, "the heart of the human kingdom."

"It's beautiful," said Kor'vas, sharing my look of awe.

"Remarkable," added Jace.

"Aye, it is a true testament of persistence and fortitude," agreed the archmage. "You will find in its people an unrivalled determination not unlike that of Stormwind's mighty walls. But today, sorrow grips this bastion of the light."

"Has the enemy already struck?" I asked, sensing danger. The city appeared intact, but knowing the Legion…

"On the contrary, it is the Alliance and Horde who struck first," replied Khadgar. "Both armies combined into one mighty force, and led an assault upon the Broken Shore, part of the very same chain of islands that held the Wardens' prison."

"The Broken Isles," I recalled, "The Master once journeyed there himself."

"Yes, and the islands still hold the dreaded Tomb of Sargeras," confirmed the wizard. "But in the years since, the Tomb has been used to empower the portal through which the Legion once again enters our world. Thus, the Alliance and Horde joined forces in an attempt to stem the tide of demons at the source."

"They failed," I guessed.

"Aye," said Khadgar sadly. "Two great leaders have fallen in battle: King Varian Wrynn of the Alliance, and Vol'jin, Warchief of the Horde. King Wrynn has thus left the crown of Stormwind to his son, Anduin. And while the Horde has its own tradition of passing leadership, your fellow Illidari are no doubt meeting the new Warchief as we speak."

I assume we'll find this Anduin in the castle over yonder?" asked Cyana.

"Yes, all the leaders of the Alliance have gathered together in Stormwind Keep to pay their respects," he replied. "You will find the new king inside with them."

"All the leaders of the Alliance…" I muttered, curling my hands into fists.

"I trust you will demonstrate the same wisdom as your master did, and recognize that there is a larger conflict at hand," said Khadgar pointedly.

That comment stung, but I also recognized the truth behind his words. Now was not the time to go dredging up old wounds. Even so, I couldn't help but feel that conflict was inevitable.

"Agreed," I muttered. "Remember, brothers and sisters: we are here as allies. We must behave as such. None of us can win this fight alone."

"I must return to Dalaran," said the archmage. "I leave this situation in your hands. Do try to avoid causing any further incidents."

As Khadgar teleported away, I snorted. If there were going to be any 'further incidents,' they certainly wouldn't be the result of my actions.

"Well, you heard him," I said. "Let's get this over with."

Trying to appear more confident than I felt, I marched up the great marble stairs into Stormwind Keep. At no point in time did any of the guards halt our advance, or even notice us at all. I found this odd, but had to assume that Khadgar had told the Alliance not to kill us on sight, or we would've never gotten this far into the city.

The long hallway ended at a massive, rounded chamber, and in the very center lay a massive stone block, the image of an adult human male carved into it. Even without my spectral sight, I could tell that this was no casket; no body lay within. I felt no surprise, only pity—the Legion wasn't known to leave behind remains for burial. A much younger human sat upon a golden throne, staring down at the memorial in silence. This had to be Anduin. I felt my sense of pity renewed a hundredfold as I realized just how _young_ he was. I had thought leading the Illidari to be a great responsibility—Anduin was just a boy, and yet he now bore the weight of an entire kingdom.

Other leaders of the Alliance were there too, of course: three dwarves also bore expressions of mourning and respect toward the fallen king, along with a gnome, a draenei…and some kind of odd-looking, bear-like creature. An older, grizzled human had his hand on Anduin's shoulder, silently comforting the youth. And on the other side of the memorial—

"Having the Illidari running free makes me uneasy," said Archdruid Malfurion Stormrage.

"I understand, husband," replied High Priestess Tyrande Whisperwind. "But the situation is clearly more dire than we know. If Maiev herself released them, then she must have had good reason…just as I did when I released your brother all those years ago."

My anger at the Archdruid's comment was only slightly tempered by the High Priestess' response, and I felt grateful that at least one of these two understood the situation. Even so, out of all the leaders of the Alliance, it had been the prospect of seeing _them_ that had filled me with dread—not because I feared them in any way, but rather because I wasn't sure I could keep myself from tearing the Archdruid to pieces. Thankfully, none of them had noticed our arrival just yet, and before I could formulate a proper greeting, I felt Kor'vas move in closer.

"The Legion always strikes at the first hint of weakness," she whispered in my ear.

Her words brought me back to why we were here, but they also raised my sense of awareness. The Alliance had suffered a great loss, and now its leaders were assembled together in one place. It was too good to resist.

And as I recalled how inactive the guards had been, my instincts kicked in, and my nostrils flared at the stench of something burning. Something was very wrong here. Activating my spectral sight, I soon realized what it was.

There were demons all around us, each hiding beneath the polished white armor and royal blue tabards of Stormwind's guards.

"Do you see what I see?" I whispered back.

The collective gasps and hisses from my fellow Illidari confirmed that they did.

"Of course they'd try to infiltrate this funeral…" muttered Jace.

"Keep calm," I told them. "And follow my lead."

As calmly as I dared, I strode forward into the chamber. All eyes fell upon us, and I tried to ignore the mixed expressions of suspicion, fear, and hatred as we came to a stop before the memorial. Holding up a hand, I approached the king alone, carefully moving around the dwarves—for some reason, their female leader seemed far less distrustful, perhaps even a little sympathetic. Or maybe that was wishful thinking. As much as I hated it, I knew that there was a time for fighting, and a time for diplomacy. This was the latter, and I had to put on a show.

So before I could stop myself, I knelt before the newly-appointed king. Trying again to ignore the reactions of the other leaders—this time a series of collective gasps and grunts—I kept my eyes to the floor.

"I understand that you have recently lost a father," I said, knowing my voice would carry to all those throughout the chamber. Better to appeal to Anduin as individuals. "We Illidari are also among the lost—family, homes, loved ones. We have lost everything to the Burning Legion. In this, we have a common enemy. As leader of the Illidari, I hereby pledge my forces to the defense of Azeroth."

"I notice that there are only kaldorei here," remarked the man at Anduin's side. "Are there not… _blood elves_ in your ranks?"

I didn't miss the note of disgust in his voice, and knew that this human was probably one of those who still bore enmity toward the Horde. If so, he wasn't going to like my answer.

"There are, my lord," I replied. "Just as we kaldorei have come to meet with the Alliance, so too are our sindorei fighters meeting with the Horde in Orgrimmar."

 _That_ got their attention, and now the uneasy muttering turned into full-fledged arguing. The older human looked like he wanted to rip my head clean off.

"You dare come in here and feign allegiance to the Alliance, then turn around and admit that your allies have joined the Horde?" he bellowed.

The time for diplomacy had clearly passed. Fine—I liked it better this way.

"If we do not remain united, then the Legion has already won," I argued, rising to my feet and meeting his glare with my own. "Or have you not been informed that the Horde has already lost a leader this day?"

He snarled in response, but fell silent as Anduin rose from the throne.

"Stand down, Genn," he commanded. "I will hear what this demon hunter has to say. But I would caution the Illidari that I have no time for pleasantries. I must prepare our armies to combat the Legion once again…and as you can see, certain allies cry out for vengeance against the Horde."

At the mention of the Legion, I recalled the fact that every one of the king's soldiers had been replaced by a demon. And yet, none had made their move just yet, even with the Illidari's arrival. They did not know that we knew. Good—best to keep it that way for as long as possible.

"I sympathize with Your Majesty's position," I told him. "The sudden burden of leadership is not to be taken lightly. But with all due respect, your little quarrel with the Horde is beneath me."

Genn once again snarled at my words. This one definitely had a short temper—he could prove to be a liability if not kept in check.

"As I said, the Horde has already lost a leader of its own," I continued. "This is a conflict that affects us all. I pledge my forces to neither the Alliance nor the Horde, but for the sake of _all_ Azeroth. I understand that certain organizations—such as the Earthen Ring—are like-minded in their acceptance of all races?"

I couldn't help but feel a little smug at the sounds of reluctant agreement from the dwarves.

"And just what is it you demon hunters have to offer?" asked Anduin. "What can you accomplish that the Alliance and the Horde cannot?"

I caught a movement out of the corner of my eye, and realized that two of the soldiers were moving toward Anduin, their hands reaching for their swords.

"Your Majesty, surely you've heard enough from this rabble," one of them said, his words dripping with arrogance. "Let us remove them from your presence."

"Stand down," repeated Anduin, his eyes widening in surprise. "I said, _stand down!_ "

"You ask what we can offer," I told him. "But the time for words is now past. Allow me to demonstrate."

Without missing a beat, I swiftly turned around and decapitated one of the soldiers, before impaling the other. As the bodies fell to the floor in a shower of glowing green blood, their valiant uniforms faded away to reveal horrible, twisted, demonic flesh.

"To arms!" I roared. "Protect the king!"

Needless to say, all hell broke loose as the demons finally abandoned their disguises and engaged the Alliance from all sides. But even as portals erupted in the air and spewed forth more demons, the leaders of the Alliance fought side-by-side with the Illidari.

Whatever my personal feelings, I had to marvel at their power, and honestly wondered how such a force could have ever seen defeat. The draenei's leader shielded his allies with the Light while two of the dwarves struck down various demons with their hammers, the female among them wreaking havoc with psychic blasts. Demon blood splashed everywhere as the Archdruid used his bear form to tear the invading wrathguard apart. He was joined in this carnage by the older human, who had suddenly transformed into a large, wolf-like creature. As blasts of moonlight obliterated the demons, the odd-looking bear creature dispatched her attackers with pinpoint melee strikes, while the gnomish leader demonstrated his mechanical prowess, incinerating the wrathguard with a combination of electricity and explosives.

But now the sounds of battle arose from the courtyard, library, and various other chambers throughout the keep.

"Illidari!" I yelled. "Go hunting! Cleanse the keep of this demonic filth!"

At my command, we all scattered throughout the giant fortress, each demon hunter accompanied by one or more leaders of the Alliance. In the courtyard, the Archdruid called the very trees to his side: countless roots burst forth and dragged the demons to the ground. In their final moments, the wrathguard struggled helplessly before I sent their bleeding heads rolling across the ground. Nearby, I could hear the battle cries of the draenei and the High Priestess as they fought alongside Jace in the library. The hearty roars of three angry dwarves and a crazed gnome drifted out from the direction of the kitchen. All throughout the keep, the seemingly-endless combat raged on as an army of the most diverse fighters I had ever seen fought to purge the corruption of the Burning Legion.

Finally, it was over. It took me several moments to process the silence that had so quickly replaced the brutal sounds of war.

"We should regroup in the throne room," I said, already heading back to find Anduin.

It appeared the others had a similar idea, and I turned my blind gaze toward the throne as I waited for the young king to speak.

"Though I lack magical sight," he said in an obvious attempt at humor, "my eyes do not deceive me. The Illidari have saved us from what could have been a terrible tragedy."

Genn seemed to take offense to that, and the wolf-man quickly stepped up to voice his complaints aloud.

"Your Highness, I assure you, we would have easily repelled the demon assault," he growled.

"I do not dispute the fighting prowess of anyone in this room," Anduin assured him, "and I must admit, I shared my allies' apprehension when Archmage Khadgar requested the demon hunters be given safe passage into the city. But I see now the truth of your words—we must unite against the Legion, or be crushed beneath their heel. I hereby grant the Illidari leave to establish a camp in the Mage Quarter."

Once again ignoring the mixed responses from the other leaders, I quickly played my part and bowed deeply before Anduin.

"We are grateful for your trust, Your Highness," I told him. "And I assure you that we Illidari will spare no expense in proving our worth, both to the Alliance and to all of Azeroth."

"Make no mistake, demon hunter," warned the young king, "should your kind succumb to the fel energies you toy with, we will be forced to treat you no differently than any other demon."

"I would expect no less," I replied, "but allow me to reassure Your Highness: the dispatching of a fallen brother is by nature _our_ responsibility. My allies are well aware of what must be done, should that come to pass."

Anduin nodded, satisfied with my answer.

"Then I give you leave to establish your camp," he told me. "May you serve us well in future battles."

Standing upright once more, I thumped my chest with my fist in a salute they would recognize as elven, before turning and leading the Illidari out of the chamber. It was as we were about to exit the keep that I sensed someone following us. Quickly turning around, I fought to keep myself from scowling—what did _they_ want?

"May I have a moment of your time?" asked the Archdruid.

"And yours, as well?" added Tyrande, nodding toward Kor'vas.

Sighing, I knew exactly what I wanted to say to them…just as I knew what a leader would be expected to say.

"Go set up our base camp in the location King Anduin has allotted for us," I told Jace.

As he saluted and led the other Illidari back out into the city, I marched into one of the keep's many side rooms—thankfully empty.

"Yes?" I prompted. "Is there more you would ask of us, Archdruid?"

He probably didn't miss my derisive tone, but chose to ignore it. Instead, he stared at me in such a way that I felt as if a magical probe was targeting my secrets. Tyrande did the same with Kor'vas, and despite the intensity, I knew their gazes held nothing more than curiosity.

"I remember you," said the Archdruid. "Velscar. You were that youth who begged to accompany me to the Broken Isles all those years ago. You were so full of anger then…"

"I'm flattered," I replied sarcastically.

This conversation was already beginning to irritate me, even more so as I realized that the Archdruid's expression was one of sadness, even pity.

"Kor'vas," said the High Priestess. "You were always so quiet in the temple, but you were one of my best students."

I watched as Kor'vas nodded respectfully. To her credit, High Priestess Tyrande seemed far more accepting than her husband. I was finding her company to be far more bearable.

"If you will permit me," said the Archdruid. "I cannot help but wonder…if I had chosen to take you with me to the islands that day…"

"All this could have been avoided?" I asked, pointing at my tattoos and sneering. "The only difference that would have made is that I'd have joined Illidan a lot sooner."

"You asked to join me in chasing after the Betrayer," said the Archdruid in shock, "Because you—"

"Wanted to join him," I repeated. "I would've just ended up sneaking away from camp if you had brought me with you. So I suggest you take comfort in this, Archdruid: it is through no fault of your own that I walk this path. Whether by fate or necessity, I am Illidari, now and forever."

"And you, Kor'vas?" asked the High Priestess. "Was there no other path for you?"

"You were ever the spirit of kindness," she replied, "the very image of the goddess herself. But an eternity studying in your temple would not have filled the hole in my heart, as learning to defend our world from the demons has."

"Is that all?" I snarled. "We have work to do."

The Archdruid levelled his gaze at me once more.

"You remind me a lot of him," he told me.

"I'll take that as a compliment," I replied.

"Do you truly hate us so?" asked his wife.

"I bear you no enmity, my lady," I told her. "On the contrary, I owe you a great deal, both for setting our master free, and for providing Kor'vas with a home when she had none. But even I cannot see a future in which the Illidari and the Druids will know peace."

"Peace…such a fragile thing, isn't it?" she asked. "And yet, powerful. It can even transcend time and space, for those who choose to fight for it. Tell me, did Illidan ever speak of his travels throughout Azeroth, before he departed for Outland?"

"He spoke little of his past, so hard did he fight to preserve the future," I replied.

"I thought as much," said Tyrande. "Some memories are still too painful, and I am sure there is much Illidan would not have you see. But this memory is also mine, and I would share it with you."

I studied the small crystal she had retrieved from the pockets of her robes. On the surface, it wasn't much—a simple rock, white as the moon. Yet both Kor'vas and I could sense the magic just beneath the surface.

"It will take no great effort on your part to access the memory I have stored within," she told us. "And I would have you relive this moment of the past, that we might use it to create a better future."

I frowned at her words—she and the Archdruid had ample reason to set a trap for us. But Kor'vas clearly trusted the High Priestess, and before I could stop her, my fellow demon hunter took the crystal in her hands. Hoping that I was wrong, I placed my hands over crystal, and we both focused on the latent energies.

The High Priestess was correct in this, at least—the memory was easy to find, like following a trail laid out for us…which was what we were doing, in a sense. Even so, the change of scenery still caught me off-guard—one moment we were in Stormwind Keep, and the next we were in what appeared to be a forest clearing.

"Where are we?" I asked.

"The High Priestess said this was her memory…" remarked Kor'vas.

The scenery wasn't the only thing that had changed—I gasped at the two figures that now stood before us. Though the priestess remained, the Archdruid had vanished from her side, replaced by someone far more familiar: a warrior sporting a blindfold and a pair of large, demonic horns. A great battle had clearly taken place here, for the grass was covered with rotting flesh and decaying bones, the corpses of creatures that I knew to be undead.

"Illidan!" gasped the High Priestess. "What trickery is this? Have you come to finish me off personally?"

No, Tyrande!" he assured her. "You must believe me! I've come to save you!"

"Save me?" she asked in surprise.

The Master responded by raising his glaives into the air and channeling magical energy into them. Swinging the enchanted blades down and apart in a circular motion, Illidan formed a portal in the air. And not a moment too soon—I quickly whipped around as the trees behind us rustled with movement, and many more undead began creeping forth, far too many for only two fighters.

Instinctively, I reached for my warglaives, knowing Kor'vas was doing the same. But it did no good—we were disembodied travelers, visitors to the past.

"Hurry!" urged Illidan. "This is our last chance!"

I watched as the High Priestess took a deep breath and bounded through the portal, followed closely by Illidan. Immediately, an invisible force latched onto us, and Kor'vas and I were both pulled in after them. The gateway led us to another part of the wood, one much farther away from the encroaching undead. As the two elves stepped out onto the forest floor, the High Priestess turned toward Lord Illidan, doubt clearly written on her features.

"You…risked your life for me," she said in disbelief. "I don't understand."

"Whatever I may be, whatever I may become in this world, know that I will always look out for you, Tyrande," he vowed.

"Tyrande!"

Turning at the sound of her name, the High Priestess quickly ran into the Archdruid's embrace as the Master looked on from afar.

"I knew you would not forsake me!" she said.

I expected the Archdruid to accept her praise, or even take up arms against Illidan. But his next words completely surprised me.

"I thought I'd lost you forever, my love," he replied, leading her back toward his brother. "And if not for Illidan's aid, I may well have."

"We have had much strife between us, my brother," confessed Illidan. "I have known only ages of hate for you. But for my part, I wish it to end. From this day forward, let there be peace between us."

I felt a great gust of wind all around us as the memory came to an end, and we were once again back in Stormwind Keep. It was as if no time had passed whatsoever.

"I assure you, no part of that memory was fabricated," said the High Priestess. "While Maiev would later take it upon herself to hunt Illidan even to the farthest reaches of Outland, she did so without our blessing or authority. Whatever our old feuds, whatever your own feelings, know that your master left us in peace."

So much of me wanted to deny her words, to insist that it had been a show for my benefit. But I had detected no magical tampering—every word, every gesture in the memory was exactly as it had happened that day. And so it was with no small amount of reluctance that I turned toward the Archdruid and extended my hand.

"If all is as you say," I began, "then it is my duty to the Illidari to renew the Master's pledge of truce. I cannot promise immediate results, and I am not so naïve to assume that we will be welcome among all your followers. But the Legion _is_ here, and our own divisions only strengthen their cause. Know that throughout all our time on Outland, Illidan only ever sought to preserve all worlds from the demons' onslaught. He fought as much for his family as he did for himself."

"Very well," replied the Archdruid, shaking my hand. "As you say, peace will not come easy. But I agree that it is worth the effort."

"Where will you go now?" asked the High Priestess.

"For now, we stay in Stormwind and prepare for the demons' invasion," I told them. "I am confident we will meet again before the end. Ande'thoras-ethil."

As Kor'vas also bowed and repeated the farewell, I stepped outside the keep and focused fel energy into my fist. Opening my fingers, I watched as the energy coalesced into a familiar feline form. Kirasath's bony maw opened in a wide yawn as he stretched lazily.

"That was rather mature of you," Kor'vas remarked as she mounted her own felsaber.

"It was necessary," I told her. "But I must admit, seeing the Priestess' memory of the Master…it's made me question many things. Perhaps it is possible for such different groups of elves to coexist…even if only in wartime. We shall see."

"This is not a burden you must carry alone," she promised, placing her hand on my shoulder.

"That means more than you can ever know," I replied gratefully. "Now, come. We've got a world to save."


	11. Recruitment of the Orders

_Hey there readers, sorry again for yet another huge delay—it's getting to be that time of year again! Since you guys have been so patient, have another chapter! No, have two! As always, please read and review, let me know what you like, what you don't, what you'd like to see more of! Now, on with the show!_

 _Disclaimer: I do not own World of Warcraft, which remains the property of Blizzard Entertainment. I make no money from this story, which is purely for entertainment purposes._

Chapter 11: Recruitment of the Orders

It was official—we were at war.

Portals had opened up all over Azeroth, spewing forth endless amounts of the vile monstrosities that served the Burning Legion. Sadistic eredar sought to burn down the frozen mountains of Dun Morogh as brutal doomguard terrorized the citizens of Westfall. Legion commanders led their forces to march upon the coastal region of Azshara, while felstalkers prowled the Hillsbrad Foothills.

I was getting a disturbing sense of déjà vu.

The only difference was that this time, we Illidari were on the Azerothian side of the conflict. In addition, an unofficial truce seemed to have been agreed upon by both the Alliance and the Horde. The Legion was sending its forces directly to their very doorsteps. Now was not the time for a faction war.

So it was that over the next few months, I grew used to seeing orcs fighting alongside dwarves, gnomes alongside the Forsaken. For all its terror, the Legion had at least reminded the two mighty armies that Azeroth was a world they both shared. As long as either side was killing demons rather than each other, they were willing to accommodate lesser foes within their lands…at least for now.

With the war constantly in my thoughts, the last thing I expected to see was a glowing pink elemental waiting for me in the Illidari encampment. But that's exactly what happened one day after a recent conflict in the Tanaris. After fighting in the desert at the very edge of the world, all I wanted to do was rest. But clearly, fate had other plans.

"Ah, there you are, champion!"

"Khadgar?" I asked.

"Yes, forgive me for not being here in person to meet you, but recent events require I be in Dalaran."

Dalaran…I knew the floating city had recently been moved all the way from Northrend to hover above the forgotten tower of Karazhan, so that the Kirin Tor might take a more direct role in the conflict. They had also gone through a sudden and unexpected change in leadership—Khadgar hadn't given me many specifics, but apparently his decision to allow the Horde into the city had caused a schism in the mages' ranks.

"Actually, I'm going to have to ask you to join me here, as well."

"What?"

I had clearly misheard him; surely there was no way the wizard was asking me to—

"Yes, I'm sure you've noticed by now that the Legion is in full retreat."

"In full retreat?" I scoffed. "Tell that to all my new scars."

But at the same time, his words touched upon a suspicion that had been slowly growing in my mind. Almost immediately after the incident in Stormwind Keep, the Legion had attacked both the Alliance and the Horde in full force, sending all their soldiers directly to the regions outside the capital cities. Over time, it was as if they had begun pulling back, to the point that there were now much smaller invasion forces to contend with, and those were in more distant regions like Tanaris and the Northern Barrens.

"If there is one thing the Burning Legion absolutely does not do, it's retreat," I said. "Which means they're on the move…but where?"

"We believe we have the answers, but will require the presence of you and one of your followers, here in Dalaran. We are summoning heroes from all over Azeroth to aid in what we hope will be the final push against the Burning Legion. For reasons of security, specifics will have to wait until we speak in person."

"Fair enough," I replied, frowning.

The elemental suddenly began to change shape, its formless mass stretching and expanding into a circular gateway. Behind me, I could sense that Kor'vas' concern mirrored my own.

"You seem troubled," she remarked.

"Are you not?" I asked. "At first, I was more than willing to take part in these invasions. But they're…short-sighted. Destruction is the Legion's style, but none of their masters have ever been satisfied with obliterating just one city or kingdom."

"They go after entire worlds," added Kor'vas, "which requires time and planning—the Scourge in Lordaeron and the corruption of the orcs were never more than means to an end. Do you think that's the case here?"

"It makes sense, considering the methods they've used in the past," I replied. "Kil'jaeden is a brilliant tactician, and he knows how mortals think—it's why the Scourge's assault worked so well. His endless minions will keep us occupied defending our homes while the real attack takes place elsewhere."

"They gradually draw back, lure both sides into a false sense of security," she finished. "Why should the Alliance or Horde care about anything beyond their own borders?"

"Precisely—I feel like Khadgar will prove to be far more reliable in this conflict than either of our new allies," I said with a frown. "Like us, he shares a much longer view of the world, and he's not afraid of methods that others would deem insane."

"He's like the Master, in some ways," she remarked.

"In some ways," I agreed. "Well, shall we?"

* * *

As it turned out, Khadgar hadn't been joking about summoning in heroes from all over Azeroth. Gazing around the large, circular chamber, I could see shamans from the Earthen Ring, along with druids from the Cenarion Circle. Two armored warriors methodically looked over their equipment. A pair of mages from the Kirin Tor flanked Khadgar himself. My spectral sigh even picked out the silhouette of a sinister rogue lurking in the shadows.

Heroes from all walks of life had gathered together from every corner of the world to answer the call of the archmage.

"I thank you all for joining me here," announced Khadgar. "I know it could not have been easy, abandoning the conflict on a whim. But let me assure you, the Burning Legion is retreating, and it is not for lack of victory."

His claim got various responses, but all seemed willing to listen.

"I must first thank you all for your part in safeguarding our world," he continued. "Now I ask that you do so again. For while you brave heroes have fought to keep the demons from destroying this world, I have been working with the Explorer's Guild to uncover certain…secrets pertaining to the Titans…and, more importantly, their dark master."

"Sargeras…" I muttered.

"Thanks to the efforts of the dwarf, Brann Bronzebeard, and his brother Magni, I believe I have discovered just what the Legion is after," said Khadgar.

"Do we not already know what they want, archmage?" asked a death knight. "Complete and total destruction has always been their aim."

Regardless of their personal beliefs, this was one assessment that every hero agreed with.

"You are correct in that," acknowledged Khadgar. "Destruction is the Legion's objective. But as the champions of Azeroth have demonstrated, the Burning Legion cannot achieve victory by force of arms alone. No, they seek a weapon…or rather, a series of weapons."

At his unspoken command, the air above Khadgar shimmered with magic, and five objects appeared in the air.

"The Tidestone of Golganneth."

A series of interlinked stones brimming with the power of the seas.

"The Aegis of Aggramar."

A mighty shield that promised eternal protection to any who would wield it.

"The Tears of Elune."

A great crystalline teardrop glowing with pure moonlight.

"The Hammer of Khaz'goroth."

A powerful-looking hammer that looked as if it had forged entire mountains.

"And the Eye of Aman'thul."

A large, glyph-covered ring encircling the other four objects.

"The Pillars of Creation," announced Khadgar. "Long ago, the Titans created these artifacts to shape the world into what it is today. They are tools and gifts of life, but as we all know, the Burning Legion delights in corrupting good into evil."

"So they seek these artifacts, then? To transform creation into destruction?" asked a paladin.

"Precisely," replied the archmage. "The survival of Azeroth depends on the Pillars' safekeeping. And we have pinpointed the resting places of these artifacts in various locations around the Broken Isles."

More uncertain muttering greeted this announcement. I knew the Alliance and the Horde had suffered agonizing defeat on the Broken Shore. It was unlikely they would be willing to commit to yet another crusade on the islands.

"Already, tensions brew between both the Alliance and the Horde as a result of their failure on the Broken Shore," said the archmage. "This is why I have asked not for representatives, but specialists. Regardless of your allegiances, you are all experts in your chosen fields. Now is the time to unite—seek out others who share your talents, and ally with each other. Find the Pillars of Creation, retrieve them, and save the world we all hold so dear."

Silence greeted him. Most of the fighters seemed willing, but unsure how to respond. While there were certainly neutral parties among them, many of the various heroes still seemed likely to side with their own races. What Khadgar was asking seemed impossible.

Sighing, I stepped forward.

"I will seek the Pillars of Creation," I vowed. "The Illidari have pledged themselves to the fight against the Legion. We will do whatever it takes to save Azeroth from the flame."

I expected mockery, derision, any number of the usual responses.

Which is why the next pair of figures to step forward caught me completely by surprise.

"The Cenarion Circle shall seek the Pillars alongside the Illidari!"

Even as I began to process the unexpected revelation, every other hero in the room now stepped forward. I knew they weren't pledging themselves to me personally—this wasn't an army under my command—the idea that so many different people could come together, united by a common goal…it was unheard of. It was…revolutionary. If Khadgar's plan worked, paladins would fight alongside death knights, mages alongside warriors, priests alongside warlocks. Not just as members of the Alliance or Horde, but as fellow inhabitants of this world. The Burning Legion would have no idea what it had awoken in the hearts of Azeroth's people.

"So be it," said Khadgar, obviously pleased. "Then with the aid of the Kirin Tor, we shall make ready to transport Dalaran immediately to the Broken Isles."

"You can do that?" I asked, astonished. The level of magic necessary…

"We can," he replied.

As the other five members of the Council of Six teleported in, I realized just how colossal an effort this was going to be. Six of the most powerful sorcerers in the world were about to move an entire city across the sea. I knew they had done it before, but knowing I was going to be here to witness it…

As they moved into position, each sorcerer began pooled his or her energies into the center of the room. Suddenly, the chamber shook—no, not just the chamber. The entire city. Instantly, I knew what had happened: the gathering of the Six had awoken a giant.

"The Legion is coming! Keep your eyes open!" yelled a hunter as she ran outside, crossbow at the ready.

A nearby warlock said nothing, grinning madly as a felguard materialized next to him.

Arriving at Krasus' Landing, Kor'vas and I looked up to see great, black clouds forming in the skies above. But no…as giant missiles of felfire rained down all around us, I realized they weren't clouds at all. Just as Khadgar had predicted, the Legion had immediately sensed the Mass Teleportation spell and figured out what the Kirin Tor were up to.

Another bright green meteor slammed into the ground, missing me by inches. I could feel the heat wash over me, smell the stench of sulfur tainting the ground.

"That's not even fair…how are we supposed to fight those?" I asked.

The city shook once more, and Khadgar's voice rang out over the city.

"Citizens of Azeroth! Today is the day we turn the tide! Today is the day that we retake our world, and send the Legion back to the hell that spawned them!"

"Whatever you're going to do, archmage, do it fast!" yelled a paladin.

"Our path is clear!" proclaimed Khadgar.

As the Legion's ships drew right up to the sides of the city, I braced myself for what would surely be the final volley of felfire.

But it never came.

Instead, the chamber in the very center of the city lit up like a beacon of magic. The aura grew ever larger, until the entire chamber was lit up. Then, it exploded outward, covering the city and everyone in it. I marveled at the tingling sensation as the blast washed over me. But that was all—the Council's spell was not meant for us. Rather, the multiple battleships surrounding the city shattered into fragments, as if the heavy, volcanic rock was nothing more than fine glass.

"The Pillars of Creation await," announced Khadgar. " _On the Broken Isles_!"

Now the entire city became enveloped in the overwhelming burst of power. I looked down at my hands to see them sparkling with dazzling, chaotic energies. As I looked over at Kor'vas, words failed me.

She was also covered in the sparkling, violet aura. Millions of tiny, glistening stars decorated her skin from head to toe. The magic was only amplified by my enhanced vision, making the sight even more beautiful.

Then, the next second passed.

And everything vanished.


	12. A World of Havoc

_Disclaimer: I do not own World of Warcraft, which remains the property of Blizzard Entertainment. I make no money from this story, which is purely for entertainment purposes._

Chapter 12: A World of Havoc

The first thing I heard was a long groan, and I realized it had come from me. Slowly, I rose to a sitting position, doing my best to help Kor'vas do the same.

"Well, we can add 'teleporting an entire city' to the list of things we've survived," she remarked.

"Barely," I replied, rubbing my temples. "Apparently Mass-Teleporting a city causes the same effects as a bad hangover."

"Well, at least you weren't stuck inside a wall."

I looked up to see an older wizard approaching us.

"Emissary Auldbridge, at your service," he greeted. "The members of the Council of Six are recuperating from their ordeal—the intensity of such a teleportation spell can be disorienting."

"You're telling me," quipped a nearby rogue as she stumbled to her feet.

"You said, 'at least we weren't stuck inside a wall,' Emissary," remarked a shaman. "Does this happen often?"

"It does now!"

We turned to see a very angry orc pounding against the large stone pillar from which his head emerged.

"Archmage!" he barked. "When I break out of this—"

"No need for that, warrior," assured one of the mages, rushing over to teleport him out.

"At least your head got stuck on the outside," teased a warlock.

The succubus next to him followed up with a malicious cackle.

"So what now, Emissary?" I asked, turning back to Auldbridge.

"We have succeeded in our efforts," he told us. "Dalaran has been relocated to the Broken Isles. It is from here that we will now spearhead the effort to claim the Pillars of Creation, and drive the Legion from Azeroth once and for all."

"Where do we start?" asked Kor'vas.

"We start by making preparations among our own kind," came a familiar voice. "There is much to be done for the Illidari in particular."

I turned around to see two figures stepping out from a fel portal. One of them was Kayn, as expected.

The other took me completely by surprise.

"Vandel!" I yelled, running up to embrace him. "We had thought you lost, brother!"

"That makes two of us!" he laughed, reaching out to embrace Kor'vas, as well. "Though from what Kayn tells me, you lot have been through your own adventure."

"Where have you been all these years?" asked Kor'vas.

"Travelling, sister," came his reply. "And teaching. I wandered far and wide, seeking fresh recruits to carry on the fight. The day the Black Temple fell, I was the slowest to answer the Master's call. By fate or chance, I met Warden Maiev Shadowsong in combat, and fell to her glaive."

"So she left you for dead, and you've taken it upon yourself to train others as Lord Illidan showed us," I said, grinning. "You always did take your responsibilities seriously."

"Ah, but I have a new set of recruits to show for it," he replied. "As well as new information that will help our cause."

"Vandel has heard rumors of a particular set of demonic blades," explained Kayn. "Weapons said to be even more powerful than the Warglaives of Azzinoth."

"Is that even possible?" asked Kor'vas.

"I am convinced that these are rumors worth pursuing," said Vandel. "If we act quickly, we may yet secure these weapons for our cause. But…there is a catch."

"There always is," I replied. "Very well, what is it?"

"Do you recall our beloved trainer, Varedis?" asked Kayn.

"Yes, he fell to the Alliance and the Horde when they besieged the Ruins of Karabor," I answered. "Wait, don't tell me—"

"Aye, brother," said Vandel, confirming my fears. "He is not only very much alive, but now serves the Burning Legion, wielding warglaives of unmatched power, blades said to be crafted by Kil'jaeden himself."

"So our overseer has betrayed us, and serves the Legion with the blessing of the Deceiver," I said. "Wonderful. Where might we begin such a hunt?"

"Vandel has discovered an eredar locked within the Violet Hold that may hold information pointing to where Varedis' stronghold lies," explained Kayn. "We have already spoken with the Kirin Tor and received permission to deal with the fiend."

"Then there is no time to waste," said Kor'vas.

As the four of us made our way toward the prison of the Kirin Tor, I stopped to clap a hand on Kayn's shoulder.

"You've done well, brother," I told him. "What happened back on Mardum is already forgotten."

In another rare moment, the blood elf looked as if he didn't trust himself to speak, and simply nodded in response.

* * *

"Let's get one thing straight here, _demon hunters_ ," said Alturas, the warden of the Violet Hold. "I don't trust your kind. You and the Legion are one and the same in my book."

"Is that why you agreed to let Vandel and the rest us into your prison?" asked Kayn. "If we were the same as the Legion, you wouldn't be standing here now."

"Is that a threat?" he barked.

"In case you're worried, Warden," I said, "we seek to _interrogate_ the demon, not free it. We'll even make your job easier and dispatch it for you, if you'd like."

"Do what you must," he replied, scowling. "But I won't risk the lives of your men on any of your suicide missions."

"No one's asking you to," said Kor'vas, glaring back at him. "Just stay out of our way."

"You're lucky that Khadgar trusts you," muttered Alturas. "That means I have to let you in. But I don't share his sentiment. We'll be watching the entire time, so if you try anything, we'll lock you in with the rest of the demons."

"Understood," said Kayn,

I wasn't surprised to find that the Warden intended to accompany us inside. But the reason for this soon became apparent, as the majority of the large, circular chamber had been sealed off by a massive wall of arcane energy, along with a giant elemental.

"Lower the barrier, and evacuate the hold," ordered the warden. "The Illidari wish to…exchange words…with the eredar."

As the guards rushed to get clear of the prison, the great barrier lowered and the elemental sank into the ground. Now the only thing keeping the demons at bay were the magical bindings on their cells…which didn't look nearly as reliable as the other defenses.

"I shall open the cell for you," said Alturas.

"Vandel and I shall stand guard here," volunteered Kayn. "No one's getting out, warden, as we promised."

Though Alturas seemed to take little comfort from that, he nodded all the same, and led Kor'vas and me up a flight of stairs to where the eredar waited on the highest level of the chamber.

"A place of honor in the prison's hierarchy," sneered Kor'vas. "Are you feeling reasonably accommodated, Taldath?"

"Accommodated!? Bah! You pathetic little elves would stand before me so defiantly, after I have singlehandedly slain so many of your kind!?" yelled the eredar. "Release me now, and I may yet spare your puny lives!"

"Oh dear," I said. "Our friend Taldath may be in need of some…persuasion."

"Just don't let your interrogation get out of hand," said Alturas, unlocking his cell. "Keeping this fiend locked away is infinitely more important than any mission of yours."

"You need not remind us, warden," Kor'vas assured him as Alturas teleported out of the prison.

"Alone at last," I said, grinning wickedly.

"Fools! You dare face me alone?" roared Taldath.

The instant he stepped out of the cell, I knew we had underestimated him—always a grave mistake when facing a demon, especially when it came to the eredar. His hooves had barely crossed the threshold when an unseen force lifted both Kor'vas and myself into the air.

With Taldath's maniacal laughter ringing in my ears, I felt myself flying back down to hit the floor of the prison, hard. Kor'vas soon joined me as Taldath warped himself down to loom over us. His expression was insulting, like a gourmand contemplating his next meal.

I allowed myself a shred of pity for him thinking it would be that easy.

Immediately leaping off the ground, I empowered my body with fel magic and rushed past the eredar as Kor'vas did the same, both of us slicing at Taldath's sides.

"Ah, the gnats have some fight to them!" he mocked. "No matter! Varedis will hunt down every last one of your disgusting ilk! Pity neither of you will survive long enough to see it!"

The great eredar began forming a mighty blast of felfire in his hands, and threw it toward us. Alone, I could never have hoped to counter such a spell, but the Illidari were built on teamwork, and Kor'vas quickly leapt over to my side as I reached out for the magic. Together, we began concentrating on the demonic energies, even as the colossal projectile bore down on us. I could feel the sweat pooling on my face, as much from exertion as from the overwhelming heat.

Then, the fireball burst into cinders, and I felt the heady rush of magic as we both consumed the energies of Taldath's spell. The eredar's roar of surprise made it all the more satisfying.

"My turn," I growled.

Channeling the stolen magic into my eyes, I let out a roar of my own as twin blasts of felfire scorched Taldath's crimson flesh. Behind him, Kor'vas released a massive explosion of fel energy.

"Where is Varedis?" I demanded. "Tell us or die!"

The eredar roared in defiance, and leapt high into the air. As his massive fists slammed into the ground, we both leapt away, stone tiles and blasts of fiery energy exploding all around us. For demon hunters, fighting had become almost like a dance, fluid and poetic. One moment we were evading Taldath's attack, and the next, we had both turned around in midair to rush back at him glaives-first. Most demons prided themselves on brute strength or magical power, but neither was any match for our speed.

Such was the case when Taldath formed a series of shadowy projections that slid across the ground like a series of tripwires. Every other second was spent leaping around the prison and delivering airborne blows. The eredar swatted and blasted away at us, but all his attacks were in vain: insects we may have been, but insects are notoriously difficult to kill.

"Vermin!" spat Taldath. "My lord wields power beyond your comprehension! He will end you!"

"I think he's losing steam!" mocked Kor'vas. "His insults are becoming far less creative!"

"And here I thought eredar retained a modicum of intelligence among the Legion's ranks," I sneered. "My mistake."

By this point, Taldath was beginning to sweat as he continued to blast away at us in frustration. I ducked and rolled away as his mouth opened wide to release a stream of deadly felfire, before delivering yet another slash at his side. Kor'vas hammered blow after blow into his exposed flank.

"Your efforts…mean nothing!" panted the demon. "Soon…all of Suramar…will bend…to my master's will!"

"Sounds like we have what we came for," said Kor'vas. "Many thanks, Taldath."

Comprehension dawned on the eredar's face as he realized his mistake, moments before I sent his head rolling across the cold stone.

"And let that be a lesson to the rest of you!" I yelled, my victory cry echoing throughout the prison.

"It seems that for once, luck is on our side," said Kayn. "Suramar is not far from here."

"A small team will have the best chance of infiltrating Varedis' stronghold without detection," said Vandel. "We will gather a select few others and await your arrival at Krasus' landing."

"Then let the hunt begin," I replied, grinning in anticipation.

* * *

"Keep your wits about you," said Kayn. "Varedis will be a cunning adversary."

I nodded as the felbats took flight. After Taldath had spilled the beans that Varedis was in Suramar, Allari and Jace had performed a spell that revealed a large amount of fel energy in the western regions. That was where we were headed.

I looked over to my right as Kor'vas and Illysanna flew up beside me.

"Are you ready for this?" asked Kor'vas.

I knew what she really meant—did I have it in me to strike down one of our own?

On the other side, Vandel and Lyana also flew in to keep pace with my mount.

"Varedis was one of us," said Vandel, echoing my thoughts. "Putting him down will not be easy."

"If we are to retrieve those glaives, it must be done," I said. "Especially if he now serves the Legion. We have a duty to perform as Illidari, no matter the cost."

"No matter the cost," echoed Illysanna, putting a hand to her heart. "Father, grant me strength."

Part of me worried about that one. Illysanna was notable among our order for her particular ancestry, for she carried the name of Ravencrest. Her father, Kur'talos, was considered a hero to this day by the kaldorei for his leadership during the War of the Ancients.

And he had served as mentor to Lord Illidan himself.

Whether it was because of her father, or simply my own role as leader, I felt a sense of responsibility toward Illysanna. All night elves owed a great debt to her father, and I knew that she had her own doubts about what Lord Ravencrest might have thought of the path she had taken.

But all that could wait, and as the wilds of Suramar came into view, I told myself to focus on the task at hand. The mission took priority over all else.

Allari and Jace's spell had been dead-on; the region we flew into bore all the hallmarks of Legion presence: green rivers of burning, acidic fel, mountains of scorched, desolate rock, and foul, ash-filled air. I tried not to breathe too deeply as the felbats soared over the blasted landscape.

Suddenly, a series of bright, green projectiles came into view.

"We've been spotted! Evasive actions!" I yelled. "Push forward!"

Immediately our party broke apart, our mounts swerving around the incoming doomguard.

"We're taking too many hits!" yelled Lyana as a felbolt scorched the side of her mount.

"Eject!" I ordered, pointing down at a cliff marked with a glowing green sigil.

No doubt it had been created as a ritual site for which the Legion to work their foul magics. Now it would serve as a landing pad for those who preyed on the demons.

One by one, we abandoned our mounts, launching ourselves through the air to land upon the giant glyph. The eredar assembled around the mark didn't have time to react before our collision sent them all screaming over the cliffside into the burning river below.

"Are we all here?" I asked.

"All Illidari have successfully made the landing," reported Vandel.

"Then get ready," I told them. "Because that was the easy part."

Mighty pillars of basalt rose up along the cliffside path as felguards marched up to greet us.

"Pah, is this it?" asked Illysanna. "These paltry demons will not keep us from our prize!"

Ducking under one felguard's blade and slicing through its midsection, I watched as she blasted away at another with her demonic eyes. Kor'vas and Vandel tag-teamed another, and I couldn't help but agree—this seemed too easy.

"Don't get cocky," I told them. "No doubt Varedis has some surprises in store for us."

The rugged path soon descended into a much larger area, a sort of mountain-wasteland overlooking a deep valley. Soon, a malevolent cackle rang through the air.

"Ah, my brothers…it's been years. You should have known better than to challenge me!"

"Varedis," I growled. "Traitor."

"My new master has granted me many gifts," he gloated. "Witness the power of the Deceiver!"

Lyana's nostrils flared, and she began looking around in suspicion.

"What is—"

Her question was cut off by a sudden explosion mere inches from where we stood.

"He's raining fel down upon us!" yelled Vandel. "Move!"

I looked up to see monstrous cannons shaped like demon faces on the cliffs above. Enormous blasts of fel energy shot out from their hideous maws directly at us.

"Keep moving!" I ordered. "Get out of the open!"

We had almost gotten clear of the cannons when tragedy struck. One of the wyrmtongue proved to be incredibly lucky, for a particular volley landed right in the middle of our party.

"No!"

But my protest did little more than allow a heap of foul ashes to fly into my mouth. For the blast had sent Kor'vas, Vandel, and myself rolling down the hill toward our destination.

Illysanna and Lyana, on the other hand, had been thrown off the far side of the cliffs into the valley below.

I wanted to deny it, somehow. But all I could do was stare at the spot where they had fallen.

"Pity your allies had to die. Don't worry…I'll put their souls to good use."

The voice sent a fresh wave of anger surging through me, and I instinctively curled my fingers into a fist.

"Damn you, Varedis…" I muttered. "I'll make you bleed for this."

"Vel," said Kor'vas, placing a hand on my shoulder. "We have to press on."

"Their deaths won't be in vain," promised Vandel. "Sacrifice, remember?"

I responded by blasting a hole clean through a doomguard that had been stupid enough to sneak up on us.

"Then let's get on with it," I spat.

We crossed a natural bridge spanning the great river of fel, followed by yet more desolation. The land continued to lead ever downward. I didn't know how, but I knew precisely where to find Varedis.

It was as if our former brother had become so corrupted by the Legion that we could now track him like any other demon.

"So, Illidari, you seek my head, that you might take the Twinblades of the Deceiver as your own?" he cackled. "Allow me to introduce you to their power…personally."

One final bridge led us to the base of a massive, fel-infused structure. And outside this fortress stood the traitor himself.

He had changed, our former supervisor. In joining the Legion, Varedis had cast aside his elven form to fully embrace the demon within. The great wings extending from his back flapped in challenge, and the curved horns atop his skull stabbed the air as his hoofed feet stomped the ground.

"Varedis Felsoul," I growled. "You have been marked for extermination. On behalf of the Illidari, allow me the honor of being your executioner."

Varedis threw his head back laughed, a roar that sounded far more demonic than any elf's laughter.

"Join me instead!" he proclaimed. "Unleash your true power! Do not let weakness hold you back!"

"I won't," I promised, leaping forward to engage him.

"It is you who are weak, Varedis," retorted Vandel, striking at the demon's side.

"You succumbed to the power of the Legion," added Kor'vas. "The temptation. You cast aside everything that made you what you were!"

Despite his demonic form, Varedis retained all the memories from his time as Illidari. This creature had been our mentor, had trained us in the ways of the demon hunter.

Now he used those skills against us.

Leaping away, he blasted away at us with his demonic eyes. We scattered and rushed back at him from different angles. Varedis laughed and released a burst of fel energy, driving us back once more. He then rushed at Kor'vas and slashed at her, but she quickly leapt away. Now I unleashed my own fiery gaze upon our former trainer, scorching the backs of his leathery wings.

"Behold the might of the Deceiver!" yelled Varedis. "Behold the glory of the demon within!"

He swung his glaives around in a wide arc, knocking us away. Once again, great streams of felfire blasted out from his empty eye sockets. Vandel and Kor'vas immediately began channeling a spell to contain the flames, but even their combined will began breaking down in the face of Varedis' overwhelming assault. Leaping over our enemy, I landed squarely before him and added my own power. It was an agonizing effort—the strain of exerting my will against this demon took everything I had. But ultimately, the three of us managed to dispel the flames, and the blast dispersed into a shower of magic…which then flowed into us, restoring our strength ten-fold.

"Impossible!" he protested. "I am a god! Kneel before me!"

Each of us responded with our own attacks, and now it was Varedis who felt pain as three separate pairs of demon eyes unleashed mighty blasts of unstoppable felfire.

Yet even as smoke rose from his charred, burnt flesh, the traitor remained standing.

"I grow tired of this charade," he snarled. "Your souls will feed the Twinblades!"

The weapons glowed with fel energy, and Varedis immediately began moving faster, striking harder. We were forced ever backward, and I knew there was only one power left that could save us.

"You may have succumbed to the demon within," I told him. "But we are Illidari! We fight as one! Our will is unbreakable! Let us show you just what kind of power you rejected!"

Together, Kor'vas, Vandel, and myself all leapt into the air above Varedis…and came crashing down upon him as massive, winged demons. I had learned long ago on Mardum that the very things that made us allies also separated us from our enemies. It was our common goals and our shared experiences that kept us from becoming fel-addicted monstrosities like Varedis or Kil'jaeden. We may have taken on the forms of demons, but our wills remained our own.

And Varedis now learned this firsthand. The metamorphosis had increased our strength, speed, and instincts. Our glaives tore through the traitor's flesh, scoring hits on his sides, raking across his chest, crippling his wings. Varedis may have been armed with Kil'jaeden's own weapons, but this false power now buckled beneath the fury of the Illidari.

 _You fool! What are you doing!? Stop playing around and unleash the full might of the Twinblades! Destroy these interlopers!_

The voice caught me off-guard for a mere second, for it was even more monstrous and evil than Varedis'.

Only one demon in existence could produce such a foreboding presence.

"Glady, my master!" answered the traitor.

Leaping away from us, he spun his glaives around and threw them around the arena. The soaring glaives cut through the stone as if it were butter. I didn't want to see what it would do to our flesh.

Neither did Kor'vas or Vandel, for that matter, and they quickly followed my lead, soaring through the air above the Twinblades. Still the weapons sought our heads, spinning like a pair of goblin buzzsaws, and I knew that eventually, we would tire and make some careless, fatal move.

There was only one thing to be done.

Spinning my own glaives around, I leapt into the air as Lord Illidan had once done. Flapping my wings to hover above the Twinblades, I threw my glaives straight at Varedis, and then focused my spectral sight upon the spinning glaives. As expected, Varedis caught my weapons with ease, and looked at them with obvious disdain.

"Ha! I have no need for mortal armaments!" he gloated.

I paid him no heed—my enhanced senses had given me the opening I needed, and I now let myself fall from the air directly toward the spinning glaives. Anything less than perfect timing would have been fatal, though some luck may also have been involved.

Grinning in satisfaction, I let my fingers curl around the handles of the Twinblades of the Deceiver.

The disbelief had barely registered on Varedis' face before I had launched myself through the air to slash at the demon with his own glaives. The traitor lifted my old weapons in one final, desperate attempt at self-defense.

Perhaps the Twinblades really were more powerful, or perhaps it was my own strength surpassing my former mentor's. Either way, my old warglaives shattered upon impact as the Twinblades of the Deceiver raked across Varedis' flesh, the blow sending him hurtling through the air to crash against one of the fortress' mighty pillars.

"Impossible…" he spat.

 _You have lost, you fool! Return to Argus! We shall deal with the Illidari another day!_

Varedis snarled, and seemed to seriously consider disobeying…until I levelled the stolen warglaives at him.

"This is not over, Illidari," he vowed, vanishing into a shadowy portal.

With the battle at an end, we reverted to our elven forms, and I was finally able to examine our hard-won prize. The Twinblades were of particular design, their blades longer and narrower than the standard glaive. Sharper, too—even without using my spectral sight, I could see that these were weapons clearly designed to shred flesh and cut through bone with little effort.

I could also feel the demonic energies running through them. These had indeed been forged by the Deceiver himself. The allure of power was almost too great to resist. With such weapons in my arsenal, I would need no allies. I could destroy the Legion single-handedly. I could—

"A well-earned victory," said Kor'vas, punching me on the shoulder.

I shook my head, dispelling the evil thoughts. Wielding these blades would prove to be yet another challenge to surmount—the Deceiver's title was well-deserved. His weapons could prove to be just as dangerous to their wielder as any foe they slew.

"Not without its costs," I replied. "Let's hope that it was worth it."

"Well done, brother!"

I turned to see Kayn swooping in on a felbat. Three more soon landed next to him.

"We managed to clear the skies while you dealt with Varedis," he told us. "Though they won't remain clear for long. If you've gotten what we came for, then I suggest we depart this place as soon as possible."

* * *

"I see the Twinblades are even more impressive up close," marveled Kayn as we flew back to Dalaran. "But where are Illysanna and Lyana?"

With the mission finally at an end, the reminder of my failure came flooding back, further banishing any thoughts of bloodshed or conquest. I didn't trust myself to speak.

"They gave their lives for a worthy cause," Vandel answered for me. "But with the power of the Twinblades on our side, their sacrifice will not have been in vain."

That much was true, at least. Just as the Illidari turned the powers of the fel against Burning Legion, I vowed that I would master these glaives, and use the Twinblades of the Deceiver to defend this world, not destroy it.

And when the time came, I would use this power to strike down Kil'jaeden himself.


	13. A Quest for Vengeance

_Hi guys! After a long holiday break, I'm back in action for some devilishly demonic storytelling! Happy 2018 to all who read, game, or are otherwise lovers fantasy! Now, on with the show!_

 _Disclaimer: I do not own World of Warcraft, which is the property of Blizzard Entertainment. I make no profit from this story, which is solely for entertainment purposes._

Chapter 13: A Quest for Vengeance

"With warglaives forged by the Deceiver himself, the Illidari will be unstoppable," said Kayn.

"Perhaps," replied Jace, looking thoughtful, "and yet…"

"What news, brother?" I asked.

"While you were besting our former mentor, another group of us raided a nearby Legion vessel," he explained. "I managed to intercept one of their communicators, but…our success came at a high price."

"It always does," I sighed, bracing myself. "Who did we lose this time?"

"Caria."

An image of the night elf filled my mind upon hearing the name. A strong build, that of a warrior, along with a determination that had always made her a fearsome opponent in battle. Even among the Illidari, Caria had been known for her ferocity. I knew she would have gone down fighting.

"Well," I said, "with Vandel's new recruits, we should be able to make up for any deaths—"

"You misunderstand, brother," said Jace. "Caria did not die."

Oh. That was another problem entirely.

"As soon as my group returned, we assembled another force to chase after her," he continued. "But…"

"You haven't heard from them," finished Kor'vas. "And you probably won't, given who they're chasing."

"Let's hope that's not the case, for Allari was leading the scouting party," he replied.

I followed his gaze toward an object the size of a small table. The stench of demonic corruption hung about it like a thick fog.

"This is a Legion communicator," I said.

"If there's any chance our forces are still alive, this communicator will find them," explained Jace. "While it was damaged during the mission, I've almost finished with the repairs. Now I just need a suitable power source."

"What would you prefer?" I asked. "Succubus heart or felhound brain?"

"While I'm sure any number of demons would be willing to donate their organs to the cause," said Jace, "we're probably going to need something a bit stronger. Archmage Khadgar would likely point us in the right direction."

"Him, and no other," muttered Vandel. "It would seem our friends in this world are few."

"For now," I corrected him. "With any luck, relations with our new allies will only be cemented over time. Speaking of which, there's none to lose. Jace, Kor'vas, with me. Kayn and Vandel will continue to supervise the rest of the Illidari back in Stormwind."

Kayn looked less than enthusiastic about that.

"What would you have us do, brother?" he asked.

"It's time we found ourselves a _real_ base of operations," I explained, clapping him on the shoulder. "We can't remain hidden away in the Mage Quarter forever."

Understanding dawned on his face as Kayn recognized the importance of such an assignment. Pounding a fist to his chest, the blood elf departed.

* * *

As we climbed the gigantic flight of stairs that led to the Violet Citadel, I turned toward Jace.

"So what do we know so far of Caria's whereabouts?" I asked.

"Little, unfortunately," he said. "What we do know is that, like Varedis, Caria has been gifted a special set of weapons by the Legion in exchange for her service."

"More demon-forged warglaives?" asked Vandel.

"Actually, no," replied Jace. "These are warblades forged by the aldrachi."

"The aldrachi? I've never heard of such a race," remarked Kor'vas.

"Few have, if any," he continued. "For the aldrachi are now among the millions of races whose homes have been reduced to ashes. What little we do know came from the mouth of a very willing eredar…after Allari provided ample 'persuasion,' of course. In their time, the aldrachi were unparalleled masters of combat. Their greatest warrior wielded the blades now given to Caria, and such was his power that Sargeras himself descended upon the aldrachi to do battle with their champion."

"Powerful, indeed," I said, shaking my head at the thought.

"If Caria has access to such weapons…" said Vandel.

"Weapons do not make the warrior," I pointed out. "Caria will be punished for her treachery, just like Varedis."

"A Legion communicator?" asked Khadgar, looking thoughtful. "You know, I might just happen to have something in my lockbox upstairs."

In stark contrast to the rest of the Violet Hold, Khadgar's chamber seemed to be in a perpetual state of disarray. Books floated lazily through the air as brooms swept up glass and other fragments that never seemed to actually go anywhere. It was a miracle that he could actually find the lockbox amid such chaos.

"And here I thought archmages would be neat and tidy," remarked Kor'vas.

"Usually, I am," replied Khadgar sheepishly. "Although, if you think this is bad, you should have seen my first job. Now _there_ was a mess…ah, here we are!"

Prying open the large, glowing chest, the archmage began rummaging through the contents. Apexis crystals and soul shards flew through the air as Khadgar continued searching the seemingly-bottomless trunk. Or perhaps it truly was bottomless—I wouldn't have put it past the archmage to actually store his valuables in a pocket dimension.

"Well, it's here somewhere…ah-ha!"

Emerging from the crowded contents of the lockbox, Khadgar held up a glowing green crystal in triumph. I actually drew back as he did so, for a shriek suddenly erupted from the depths of the stone. It was faint, as if some poor soul were wailing from the other side of a wall.

"Yes, demon hunters also rely on captive souls to empower their magics, I believe," said the archmage.

"Should I wonder what it is you're doing with this?" I asked.

"Oh, rest assured there's no one in there that won't be missed," replied Khadgar, waving his hand dismissively.

The gesture was also a sign of teleportation, for a moment later, we were back on the ground floor.

"No need to thank me," said the archmage. "Just promise you won't do anything to blow up our city—the repair bills are astronomical as it is."

As we turned to leave, Khadgar called us back one last time.

"A word of warning," he told us. "If this communicator of yours is of Legion origin, then you never know which of its creators might be listening in."

* * *

"Alright," said Jace. "With this, we should be able to get in contact with Allari and her forces. And if Caria's still out there…"

"We'll make her suffer," vowed Kor'vas.

"Alright, let's fire it up and see what we can learn," I said.

Carefully placing the green soul shard atop the communicator, Jace stretched out his hands and began to channel the binding spell. Green lines of fel magic arched out to anchor the crystal in place, and it slowly sank into the middle of the crown-like spikes adorning the object. The entire communicator lit up, and a faint green aura shot up from the new power source.

"Allari, report in," ordered Jace. "Have you located Caria and the Aldrachi Warblades?"

Minutes flew by without any response, and I let out a sigh, already trying not to mourn. A difficult feat, for the loss of Allari would prove a huge setback in our efforts to topple the Legion.

"Yes…we read you, Jace," reported Allari.

Her voice was faint and distorted, but as the image of the Souleater appeared before us, there could be no mistake—Allari was alive and well. Even so, the connection was terrible, which meant that our sister was either on another world, or something around her was deliberately interfering with the signal.

Or someone.

"Caria…Broken Shore," she continued. "…heavy resistance…"

"Allari, report," I commanded. "What is your exact location?"

"Damn it all!" she yelled. "Incoming!"

Her image vanished, followed by the sound of a loud explosion. I reared back as the communicator followed suit, the power crystal shattering and the frame melting into foul slag.

"Not good," muttered Jace.

"We know they're on the Broken Shore," I said. "Somewhere."

"Wonderful," muttered Vandel. "The one place on the Broken Isles that the Legion is at its strongest."

I thought of the Alliance and the Horde, how their joint assault had ended in complete and total failure. I looked toward the east, where the Tomb of Sargeras continued to glow like a demonic beacon.

"We have no choice," I told them. "Allari is one of us, and those warblades will undoubtedly turn the tide in this war."

"We'll never get close to the Shore without being blown out of the sky," remarked Kor'vas.

"Hmm…then perhaps we should stay out of the sky altogether," suggested Vandel, looking thoughtful.

"You have a plan?" I asked.

"Let's just say I've been busy during our long separation," he told us with a grin. "I suggest we fly in only as far as Suramar's southern coast. Phase Two can commence from there."

"Very well," I replied. "I trust your judgement, brother."

And I did. Though I had become leader by default, I still counted Vandel as my senior. He had shown me the way, just as Illidan had once shown him. As we mounted our fel bats and took flight, there was no question in my mind that Vandel knew what he was doing.

* * *

"Alright, we're here," said Jace, leaping onto the beach. "What's this 'Phase Two'?"

"Sssuch a pleasure to be a part of the Illidari once more."

I grinned at the sound of the familiar hiss, and turned toward the Great Sea. Sure enough, from the watery depths emerged an entire host of serpentine naga, led by none other than Lady S'theno.

"My lady," I greeted, bowing respectfully. "I am pleased to see you and your people alive and well. The Coilskar are always welcome among the Illidari."

If there was one thing Lord Illidan had taught me, it was that manners and etiquette were everything when dealing with naga. No surprise, considering their former status as Highborne. Besides, it's typically best to stay on a naga's good side, considering they can drag you down to a watery grave without drowning themselves.

"I underssstand that sssome of our own are in jeopardy," S'theno replied. "And that there isss a traitor to be dessstroyed."

"You understand correctly," I told her. "A night elf named Caria has betrayed the Illidari to join the Burning Legion, and must be dealt with. We also have people on the Broken Shore that need to be brought home. Unfortunately, we'll never get past the Legion's air defenses."

"Which isss why Vandel wisssely sssuggested we go in by the sssea," she finished. "The Coilssskar are alwaysss happy to asssist our alliessss. Our magicsss will allow you to ssswim and breathe as we do. The demonsss will never sssee us coming."

"Your aid is most welcome, my lady," I repeated, bowing deeply. "As always."

Taking the initiative, I waded into the sea up to my waist, and turned toward Lady S'theno. As the others joined me, several naga sirens swam up to float beside their captain. Together, the Coilskar naga raised their webbed hands, channeling watery magic in the air.

Something wet and squishy immediately caressed my lips. I knew better than to feel disgusted, for I recognized this sorcery. A magical bubble of air now covered my mouth, allowing me to breathe underwater. At the same time, a sharp chill stung my feet, crawling up my legs and stopping at my waist. Spreading my arms, I leisurely fell back into the Great Sea. As I expected, water did not rush in to fill my lungs, but rather sloshed off of the magical breather. Kicking my legs experimentally, I found that my muscles responded just as easily as they did on land.

"I would say it pays to have naga on your side," remarked Kor'vas.

I nodded, marveling at the Coilskar magic. So adept were S'theno's naga that we could even talk while beneath the sea.

"No time to lose," I announced. "We shall make the Legion pay for their arrogance. The demons will learn this day that they have severely underestimated the might of the Illidari!"

So saying, I kicked off and began swimming toward the Broken Shore. It was impossible not to think of how true my words were. For better or worse, it seemed that we demon hunters had effectively become the public face of the Illidari—even the Burning Legion prepared itself to be assaulted by demon hunters first and foremost. It was why they had prepared so many aerial defenses, in case we tried to fly in by felbat.

But at its strongest, the Illidari had been one of the most diverse armies in the universe, even more so than the Alliance or Horde, in some ways. None had been turned away, so long as they could fight and wished to oppose the Legion. And so the original Illidari had seen orcs alongside night elves, naga alongside broken, and blood elves alongside demons. For all their diverse memberships, Azeroth's two great armies always seemed more concerned with defending their territories and kingdoms, while trying to kill each other as much as possible. Neither the Horde nor the Alliance were completely above petty racial preferences.

We Illidari had known for a long time that there was a much bigger picture to focus on.

This was especially true in the case of the naga. I thought back to the first time Lord Illidan had journeyed to these islands in search of the Tomb of Sargeras. The naga had been valuable allies then, and they would become so again.

* * *

As we drew nearer, I could see that the sky was filled with demonic felbats, and my spectral sight indicated at least three cannons lining the immediate ridges at the end of the beachhead. Clearly, the Legion had prepared to be attacked from the air.

They would never suspect a naval assault. For once, we had the element of surprise. I intended to exploit that advantage to its fullest.

"We await your command," whispered S'theno.

Nodding, I held up a hand. Putting a finger to my lips, I pointed directly ahead. _Slowly and quietly._ Both the demon hunters and naga nodded their understanding, and we slowed our pace as our small army entered shallow water.

It is a common misconception that naga are only a threat while underwater, and that the deadly sea serpents are completely helpless on land. This could not be further from the truth, as Lady Vashj had demonstrated on several occasions. As we emerged from the sea, our aquatic allies once again displayed their ferocity, blasting away at the cannons with bolts of lightning and deadly shards of ice. Meanwhile, I led the demon hunters up the small slope to assault the weapons directly.

Needless to say, our surprise attack could hardly have gone better. Even as we rushed past the charred remains of the Legion's cannons, I could see demons running about in a blind panic. The few who did realize they were under attack fell swiftly beneath the combined assault of elves and naga. For the moment, at least, our army could overwhelm them with sheer numbers.

"Velscar, is that really you?"

Leading our forces toward the familiar voice, I came to a stop in the middle of a large canyon overlooking the beach. Sure enough, there stood Allari, braced against a great stone pillar by a series of fiery chains. They looked painful.

"You didn't think we'd leave our little sister behind, did you?" I asked.

Allari stuck her tongue out playfully before replying.

"You going to get me out of here, or what?" she asked.

Slashing the foul links apart, I watched as Kor'vas helped Allari up before embracing her sister.

"Report," I said.

"Caria tore us apart," spat Allari. "She slaughtered every single one of us…except me. The fool left me for dead, to be torn apart by the demons."

"Her arrogance shall prove her undoing," hissed S'theno. "We shall sssee to it."

The canyon ended at a series of stone steps, which led up to the remains of an old temple, likely that of Elune herself. Now the shattered ruins glowed a sickly green with a great fel portal.

 _Velscar…I thought I sensed a paltry whelp wandering where it shouldn't_.

I snarled at the voice that floated out from the demonic gateway.

"Caria…" I growled. "You have much to answer for."

 _I'll answer for all that and more, if you cowards have the nerve to face me! Blessed by Kil'jaeden himself, I'm now far beyond anything the Illidari could ever hope to become! Here's but a small taste of the power I now command!_

From the portal swarmed a mass of writing, gnashing, monstrous little shadow creatures, not unlike those once summoned by Illidan himself. Despite their size, I knew the devilish little monsters would easily tear apart an opponent within seconds. And though their numbers rivalled our own, the Illidari still retained the advantage in magic. Blasts of felfire incinerated the shadowy beasts, cutting through their forms as if the monsters were made of paper. The naga added to this assault with their own power, calling forth massive waves to crash down upon the nasty little cretins.

"Just like old times," I said. "The Illidari stand triumphant."

"It isss good to fight alongssside our alliesss once more," agreed S'theno.

"And that was just a small taste of _our_ strength, Caria!" Allari shouted.

 _Well then, by all mean…have some more!_

Now three massive doomguard emerged from the portal, their bulky forms nearly shattering the gateway as the demons materialized. They brought their giant swords crashing down, and I could feel the terrible energy, even as I quickly evaded the attack.

"Scatter!" I ordered. "Surround them from all sides! They are but wild beasts to be penned in and slaughtered!"

The Illidari roared in agreement as they encircled our enemies. The doomguard roared back defiantly, but for all their power, they were few. Though at least two naga fell to shadowy missiles and fiery blasts, the doomguard were swiftly overwhelmed by our combined might.

"No more games!" I yelled. "Illidari, advance!"

Leaping through the portal, I braced myself for the familiar swirling haze of demonic energies that accompany such dimensional gateways. This one took us to what appeared to be yet another canyon on the Broken Shore, though the passage was much darker—indeed, it would have been pitch-black if not for the long, eerie leylines cris-crossing the rocky path. Each glowed with the eerie power of the Void.

 _You seek the power of the aldrachi? Behold what fate befalls those who oppose the will of Sargeras!_

From the leylines emerged a horde of shadowy monstrosities. These were not demons, but something else entirely.

" _You seek to stop the Legion_ ," the creatures whispered. " _We once sought to do the same. None can oppose the Legion. You will die_."

"These are the aldrachi?" exclaimed Kor'vas.

 _Now you see the futility of your fight! Submit or die!_

"I have a third option," I replied, slicing into one of the shadowy projections.

Though they had been ferocious warriors in life, the remnants of the aldrachi were little more than echoes of a once-great people. Memories and despair were all they had to offer now, and those proved to be of little resistance.

The Void-laced canyon finally opened up into the shattered remains of yet another fallen temple. But rather than another portal, Caria herself stood in the middle of the ruins.

"For every soul I claim, my power grows!" she bragged. "I will rule this world…ALL worlds!"

As we drew closer, I realized her words were no mere jest: the fallen bodies of Allari's forces lay strewn all around the ruins. Caria began to glow with fel energy, and the corpses rose into the air. Raising her arms into the air, the traitor began to channel evil magics, and she began draining our allies of what remained of their souls.

I shook my head and let out a deep sigh. Such lack of restraint was proof that Caria had submitted to her inner bloodlust. For demon hunters, every day was a fight to retain control of our inner demons. It seemed that Caria had lost that battle. Now her demon was the one calling the shots.

"Witness the might of the aldrachi!" she roared.

Having drained the last of the souls, Caria changed. Her skin melted away to become hardened, scale-like flesh. Horns sprouted from her head, and monstrous spikes shot out of her back. Here was Caria's inner demon made manifest. Though the ability to transform this way was one any demon hunter could learn, it exacted a heavy price on one's mind, and required precise focus, and an overwhelming amount of self-control, discipline, and concentration.

Caria had none of that as she leapt toward us, scattering our forces with a gigantic explosion where she landed. Naga and demon hunters alike died instantly, whether by Caria's initial leap or on impact with the wall. Snarling, the traitor swung at the rest of us, but those who survived wisely put even more distance between themselves and her.

"Cowards!" she roared. "Fight me!"

As more souls rose from our fallen comrades, Caria took on an almost drunken expression. Lord Illidan had explained to us before that the souls of the fallen had great power: they could be used to empower portals, heal wounds, and even raise the dead. But this…Caria had no concern for the souls she had stolen. They served no purpose other than to increase her own power. Such disdain for life was precisely what made the Legion so disgusting, and it filled me with anger. Good. Anger I could use.

"You're not the only one who knows how to heal their wounds with the souls of others, Caria," I retorted. "But your power is clumsy and unstable. Allow me to show you how a true demon hunter claims his prey!"

So saying, I leapt through the air at her, bringing my warglaives crashing down. Caria brought her warblades up to parry, just as I knew she would. So focused was she on my assault that the traitor did not notice Kor'vas, Allari, and Jace rushing in from the sides. But she certainly felt their fury as three sets of warglaives cut into her sides, and S'theno's magical volley blasted away at her flank.

Shrieking in pain, Caria wavered for a moment, which was all I needed to twist away and drop down to cut open her chest. Though the wound sealed almost immediately, countless glowing souls flew out from the cavity, as if our enemy was no more than an empty shell filled with the souls of others. Perhaps she was. Regardless, I immediately invoked the spell to channel these spirits into myself and our allies, restoring our strength and healing our wounds.

Caria snarled as she realized what I had done, and struck once more. Her blows were powerful, and I actually had to concentrate to avoid being disarmed, or worse. Though she had surrendered control, the traitor was still a powerful opponent—every block or parry made my arms ache. But I grit my teeth and held on. Just a little more…

"I will claim your life, even if I have to snatch it from your lifeless corpse!" she screeched. " _Your_ soul will prove the most potent, I think!"

"Perhaps," I replied. "But your gluttony is destined to be your downfall. I'd have thought you'd figured it out by now: I'm just the distraction."

Whirling around in a panic, Caria raised her warblades to assault the others. But it was too late: S'theno, Kor'vas, Jace, and Allari now pooled their magic together into one mighty blast, and the combined spell tore through Caria's demonic frame as if it were scrap metal against a gnomish blowtorch. Even her regenerative abilities couldn't withstand such damage, not that she didn't try: the destructive spell had ripped open a large, gaping hole in Caria's chest, and even as the traitor fell to her knees, I could see the souls flying out from the wound, the edges of which rapidly twitched as if trying to sew themselves back together.

"I will be reborn," she gasped.

"Perhaps," I replied. "But not before you endure excessive torment at the hands of your new master. In my experience, Kil'jaeden does not reward failure easily. Say hello to the Deceiver for us, will you?"

And with that, I sent Caria Felsoul's head rolling across the filthy ground of the Broken Shore.

Prying those precious warblades from Caria's deathgrip wasn't easy, but it was well worth it. Unlike the Twinblades, these warblades were shorter with jagged edges. Less sharp, but well-suited to landing critical blows on opponents without actually killing them. Perfect for gathering soul energy for healing and protection.

It might have bothered me once that I was now using the souls of others to heal myself and my allies, or to open portals to other worlds. A lot might have bothered me before undergoing the ritual. But Lord Illidan had shown us the truth: that there truly was no sacrifice too great when it came to stopping the Legion. I would have gladly given my own soul for the cause, proud in the knowledge that I was but a small part of a much larger cause. That was what separated Caria from the rest of us: we did not use the souls of the fallen idly, but to preserve life for those who would come after us. No such life would exist if the Burning Legion were not stopped.

"Legion reinforcements are on their way," said Allari.

"They've likely sensed Caria's demise," added Jace.

"Fortunately, we are once again near the coassst," said Lady S'theno. "I mussst admit, I am eager to exact vengeance againssst the Legion for the losss of my soldiersss."

"You will have your vengeance, my lady," I told her. "Before this war is over, we all will."


	14. The Choices We Make

_Disclaimer: I do not own World of Warcraft, which remains the property of Blizzard Entertainment. I make no monetary profit from this story, which is purely for entertainment purposes._

Chapter 14: The Choices We Make

I sighed deeply, digging my claws into the long, pointed railing of the Fel Hammer. For once, the source of my…irritation, for lack of a better word, came not from any demon, but from that…thing. It was impossible not to stare at the shadowy abomination that only vaguely resembled a broken. The creature was completely unlike our other allies, even the demonic ones, for it radiated evil and malice. Yet this newest monstrosity was one we had created ourselves.

So much had happened since I claimed the Aldrachi Warglaives. Not long after we killed Caria, Kayn had made contact with Matron Mother Malevolence and Gaardoun, the commander of our broken forces. Apparently, they had been stranded back on Mardum all this time, having been forced to retreat when the Black Temple fell. It had been agreed among our allies that Lady S'theno and her naga should return to Azeroth and aid Vandel in rebuilding the Illidari…while the shivarra and broken claimed the Fel Hammer for the Illidari.

I sighed again. We had missed so much, we who were imprisoned. While the remaining demon hunters slept, it had been Vandel who had worked tirelessly to reclaim what had been lost: recruiting new demon hunters and reaching out to what allies remained. Not for the first time, I wondered if the Master had not erred in making me leader.

But that was precisely what he had done, for shortly after reuniting the Illidari's forces, we had then set about gathering materials to contact Lord Illidan himself. Even after death, the Master's spirit endured. As relieved as I had been to see the closest thing I'd ever had to a father, Illidan's words were not those of comfort.

* * *

" _I entrusted you with the command of the Illidari all those years ago," he said. "And now, I do so again. I see much potential in you, Velscar, just as I did in Vandel. As I did in Kor'vas and Kayn."_

" _Master, I…I am not worthy," I protested, trying to find the words. "Surely someone with more experience—"_

" _It is not experience that makes you the ideal leader, but will," he interrupted. "You have the will to see this through, and you_ must! _I will debate this no more; we have little time. Even now, my soul wanders the spirit world, and many are those who would claim it for their own. I must keep moving. Do as I command, and we shall meet again."_

" _What is your command, Lord?" I asked. "Speak, and it will be done."_

" _You will recall that at the height of our power, I had many advisors within my inner circle," he said. "The Illidari Council is no more. Varedis has betrayed us, and the other instructors are also dead. Vandel should have been notified by Varedis in case any of this happened, but…"_

" _It would seem Varedis' pride taunts us even now," growled Vandel._

" _Indeed..." muttered Illidan. "Which leaves us with the only leader of the Illidari still among the living."_

" _Lord," I said, "Surely you don't mean—"_

" _I do," he replied. "You must return to the Black Temple and persuade Akama to join our cause once more. You must also recover the Sargerite Keystone; it is the only means of reaching the Legion's homeworld of Argus. The Wardens likely hid it away upon my death. The future depends on your accomplishing these tasks. Use whatever means necessary, but you_ must _succeed…or_ all worlds shall burn. _"_

* * *

Recruiting Akama had certainly proven to be the more straightforward endeavor, if not the easier one. The old broken had been making himself busy restoring the Temple of Karabor as much as possible…which wasn't saying much, considering Outland remained a shattered world. Part of me had felt deep pity for the old one, desperately trying to restore his home, constantly in denial about the futility of his quest.

Nevertheless, there had been no room for sympathy, and in the end, Akama had not deserved any.

" _Remember, we're just here to talk," I told my allies. "Nobody lays a hand on Akama unless he strikes first. I would prefer to resolve this matter peacefully. But if that proves impossible…"_

" _That's what the Scythe's for," finished Allari, stroking her weapon lovingly._

As I had feared, the long years had not made Akama any less stubborn.

"Akama, listen to me," I said. "We're just here to talk—"

The old broken snorted, his long, dangling tendrils twitching in irritation.

"Even here, on this broken world, I still hear whispers and rumors of the Illidari's return," he muttered. "But I am not impressed by your…power. Let us see if you can say the same!"

The downside to approaching Akama peacefully was that we were not prepared for his surprise attack. Stretching forth both arms, the old broken sent out a stream of deadly lightning, lifting the others high into the air and binding them against the mighty stone pillars that adorned the temple summit.

"Now the fight is fair," he snarled.

"I did not come here to fight," I shot back.

"No, you came here to _die!_ "

There was no other option, for Akama had given me none. The tragedy was that in his self-righteous fury, the old broken was just as dangerous as the Legion itself, willingly blinding himself to reality in favor of his own beliefs.

Old he may have been, Akama was still a formidable shaman. The elements rushed in to aid him as we locked blades, the wind guiding his strikes as fire gathered on his pointed blades.

The darkened sky rumbled, and bolts of lightning rained down. It took everything I had just to evade Akama's spells. But he had not fought a demon hunter in ages, and was unused to so nimble an opponent. I danced around his lightning strikes before counterattacking, leapt back once more every time I sensed the wind begin to shift.

"Coward!" yelled Akama. "Fight me!"

Putting his hands together, Akama sent a burst of elemental energy right at me. Locking my blades together, I fought just to hold back the storm.

"Tell me, demon hunter," he said, "how did it feel to be locked up for all those years?"

"It was a mercy, after all the pain you inflicted, traitor!" I shot back. "You are not impressed by our power? Perhaps you need to be reminded of just how unstoppable the Illidari truly are!"

The blood flowing through my veins, already touched by demonic energy, had been boiling throughout the fight at the memory of everything Akama had done: how he had robbed us of our home, torn apart our family, killed our only father. Now I unleashed it all, let my hatred ignite, and set my inner demon free. Wings sprouted from my back as my own flesh burst apart to become new, stronger muscle. Any tears I might have shed now poured from my eyes as a stream of demonic fire. This mighty blast hit Akama's spell head-on, and for a moment, we struggled in one powerful, energized stalemate. But Akama's losses paled in comparison to my own: he knew nothing of pain or loss. Gradually the lightning gave way to fel, and the broken's spell soon fell apart completely…before the unrelenting stream of fire washed over him like a wave of pure hatred.

"This is…impossible," he coughed, falling to his knees. "Very well, then…kill me. I will never aid you. You are no better than the very demons you consort with. The Legion and your master both destroyed my beautiful temple. Someday, I will have my revenge."

"You're pathetic," I spat. "A decrepit, senile old man clinging to his memories. You've forgotten what true pain is. Allow us to remind you—one way or another, you _will_ help us defeat the Legion."

As Allari stepped up and pointed the Scythe of Souls at Akama, the old broken's eyes went wide with terror. I allowed myself a grim smile—oh yes, he no doubt recognized the magic being worked here.

"No…" he protested feebly. "You can't—"

Akama's protest cut off as he suddenly jerked back, his feeble body contorting painfully. His disfigured mouth fell open, and a horrifying scream issued forth. But Allari did not half in her movements. I felt one last shred of pity, before I smothered it in hatred and vengeance. Beside me, Kor'vas squeezed my hand, and I knew that she felt the same.

Together, we watched as the gruesome, shadowy figure arose from the crippled old broken.

"I live again!" hissed the Shade of Akama.

* * *

Back on the Fel Hammer, I shook my head, dispelling any lingering guilt as I felt the Shade approach me. Akama had gotten what he deserved—he was the real Betrayer. As I turned toward the Shade, I observed its similarities to the broken…and its differences. Though it looked like Akama, it was anything but. The Shade was anger and hatred incarnate, its 'voice' issuing forth in a malevolent whisper, its 'eyes' fixed in perpetual malice.

And yet, I could not help but feel a strange sort of kinship with it. The Shade of Akama was not so different from the demon hunters. How many elves would willingly take us back, after we had grown horns and scales and claws? Homes, family, identities, respect…we had lost everything.

But we had also gained just as much.

"You need not fear Akama's disloyalty, not from me," hissed the Shade. "Akama was weak, short-sighted. I am the better part of him, for I was created out of that small part that once shared Lord Illidan's vision. That part he once locked away. No more!"

"Then you will serve the Illidari far more loyally than your…original self?" I asked.

To my surprise, the Shade bowed deeply.

"I possess all of Akama's knowledge, all of his power," it replied. "I know everything he does, and more. These gifts I devote to the mission of the Illidari. In time, we will destroy all our enemies…perhaps even Akama, as well."


	15. Storming the Beaches

_Disclaimer: I do not own World of Warcraft, which remains the property of Blizzard Entertainment. I make no profit from this story, which is exclusively for entertainment purposes._

Chapter 15: Storming the Beaches

The time had come. There was no use putting it off any longer. We had our base established, and our forces had been gathered. According to Khadgar, the race to find the Pillars of Creation was already underway. It was time to take our place alongside the other contestants.

"Belath, status report," I ordered. "Jace, bring up the map of the Broken Isles."

Both elves strode up to stand beside myself, Kor'vas, and Allari at the table in the center of the Fel Hammer. Carved to resemble a massive, demonic skull, it lit up in response to Jace's magic. Beams of fel shot into the air to form a sphere. The sphere became a planet, which then became a map of the Broken Isles as Jace "zoomed in" on the hologram.

"As the situation currently stands, we're going to be one of the last factions to enter the conflict at this point," reported Belath.

"Chalk that up to our recent…restructuring," I replied, motioning for him to continue.

"The only other faction that hasn't officially entered the fray seems to be the warlocks of the Black Harvest," he continued. "Though I suspect that their reasons are less pragmatic."

"One can never be too careful when dealing with warlocks," I agreed. "Even if they claim allegiance to the Alliance or Horde, they still summon demons the way others swing a blade."

"Though others have expressed similar mistrust of the Illidari," Kor'vas pointed out with a smirk.

I felt myself grimace at the truth of her remark. Even so, the Illidari had never made it a secret that we opposed the Legion, first and foremost. Yes, we summoned demons on occasion, but this was always a means to an end. While I knew that the Council of the Black Harvest could argue the same, the rate at which their fighters called forth demons made me wonder what their endgame truly was.

"Forget about the Black Harvest for now," I said. "We'll likely be on the ground before them anyway. What of the other Orders?"

"Scattered, but unified," explained Belath, pointing to different sections of the map. "The druids of the Cenarion Circle will of course defend their territory in Val'Sharah first and foremost. The priests of the Conclave have placed themselves under the command of the High Priestess at the Temple of Elune."

"Highmountain?"

"Currently in a state of chaos—a tribe of drog'bar have gone rogue, with their leader seizing the Hammer of Khaz'goroth and proclaiming himself 'King of the Mountain.' The various tauren tribes are scattered and divided, which means there's no real resistance to this new warlord. No real Legion presence there at the moment, but the shamans of the Earthen Ring, the monks of the Order of the Broken Temple, and the hunters of the Unseen Path have made contact with the Highmountain Tribe. All three are currently working to bring the various tribes together into a united front against the drog'bar."

"What about Stormheim?" asked Kor'vas.

"A warmonger's paradise," chuckled Belath. "Home to a Titan structure known as the Halls of Valor, ruled by a keeper named Odyn. There's a moderate amount of Legion presence there—a vry'kul king known as Skovald has pledged his loyalty to Gul'dan, thus triggering a civil war. In true warrior spirit, Odyn has turned this war into a contest, with the Aegis of Aggramar as the prize. Fortunately, his Valarjar have reached out to the various warriors of both the Alliance and the Horde. The Knights of the Ebon Blade and the Order of the Silver Hand have also joined the 'competition.' I expect it's only a matter of time before they succeed in claiming the shield."

"Sounds like Stormheim and Highmountain are well in hand," I said. "What's the coast look like?"

"Much worse," he replied grimly. "We're seeing a massive amount of demons encroaching on Azsuna. They appear to be flanking the region from two sides: in the west, the entire island of Faronaar has been conquered by the Legion. They also approach from the east, and have established a small camp along the border of Suramar, near their base at Felsoul Hold. As if that weren't enough, it seems that Queen Azshara also covets the Tidestone of Golganneth, which means that you've got naga staking their claim on the region."

"Who's on the ground there?"

"The Wardens have reached out to the Uncrowned in assisting their efforts to repel the demons," he reported. "And the mages of the Tirisgarde have begun aiding what appear to be a number of Highborne spirits in repelling Azshara's naga."

"What, the Wardens didn't bother inviting us to the party?" asked Allari.

"Whether or not they still trust us, the Uncrowned won't be able to hold the Legion back for long," I muttered. "Not alone, at least. If the demons have completely taken over Faronaar, it's only a matter of time before they start moving inland. It'll take a much larger force to invade their main base in Suramar, possibly all of the Orders together. For now, we focus on retrieving the Pillars of Creation."

"So we're going to Azsuna, then," said Kor'vas.

"We secure the coastal region, move further inland," I continued, pointing at the map. "We'll fly down to this spot here, on the shoreline facing Faronaar, establish a base camp, and secure the island. With any luck, our allies in the area will actually be happy to see us."

"What of the naga?" asked Lady S'theno.

It was the first time she had spoken during the briefing, but her question was a fair one.

"If it means securing the Tidestone, then Azshara's naga must be dealt with," I replied. "My lady, I won't ask you to fight your own people, but—"

"You needn't ask," she replied. "Lady Vashj's allegiance may have been born out of convenience, as Lord Illidan sought to destroy the Lich King for the Deceiver. But soon our lady realized that the Master's designs for Azeroth are different from Azshara's…she made her choice, as have we."

"And where do your loyalties lie?" asked Kor'vas.

I winced at the bluntness of her question. Even so, I couldn't reprimand her; Kor'vas had openly stated what I knew all the Illidari had been thinking. Azshara was likely opposed to the Legion, which meant that for all we knew, the Coilskar's allegiance was not only convenient, but temporary.

"I wouldn't call what I do 'ssserving the Illidari,'" replied S'theno. "It'sss more like…cooperation. But Azshara serves a much darker master than the Legion. Rest assured that our lady Vashj knew her loyalty to Lord Illidan would make her an outcast. We Coilskar have that much in common with you demon hunters."

"Then you will be a valuable ally down on the shore," I told her. "The Coilskar will accompany us to Azsuna and assist us in liberating the region from the demons."

As Kor'vas and I turned toward the portal that would lead us back to Dalaran, I couldn't help but notice a smirk on S'theno's face, as if she knew the real reason I wanted her naga with us. If she had confronted me in that moment, I wouldn't have bothered denying it: the rest of Azeroth needed to see and hear of naga fighting against naga, to know that just as the demon hunters were allies against the Legion, so too was there at least one group of naga that also fought to preserve their world.

This was as much about the Coilskar proving themselves as it was about defeating the Legion. Otherwise, there would be no future left for the naga after this was all over. Whether I liked it or not, I was beginning to realize the necessity of playing the long game, and I couldn't help but wonder how Lord Illidan had managed it.

* * *

"Shall I assemble the Felbats?" asked Kyra Lightblade, as we stood atop the wall that surrounded the city of Dalaran.

"Where's the fun in that?" I asked.

Turning around, I fell back, dropping off the edge of the floating city.

There are times when it would be easier to not be a demon hunter. For all my self-control, I still dealt with the same issues as my brethren on a daily basis: the hunger for demon flesh and felblood, the agonizing pain of having demonic fire course through my veins, the psychological horror of knowing what I had done to myself.

But it was times like this that made me realize I had gained just as much as I had lost. Contrary to popular belief, one of the best things about being a demon hunter has little to do with the power. It's not the streams of felfire that I can pour from my empty eye sockets. It's not the demonic fire that infuses my glaives to set unfortunate demons alight.

It's the freedom, the feeling of diving through the open air head-first and allowing the large, bat-like wings to tear through my flesh, emerging to keep me aloft, slow my fall, and guide me back down toward the earth. Ironically, the druids could probably empathize with this much, at least.

There truly is no other sensation like that of flight.

As the rough sand rushed up to greet me, I tried not to breathe in the overwhelming stench of salt and seawater. Kor'vas landed next to me, followed by the other demon hunters.

Despite the odor, Azsuna was quite beautiful, all coastline and shallow pools, colored by the bright purple clouds that adorned the horizon. Clearly, this ancient land had remained heavily saturated with magic long after the Sundering.

But none of that would matter if we did not stop the Legion here and now. Though it lay several miles to the west, the island of Faronaar was crawling with demons. Through my spectral sight, I could just make out several figures on the far coast. Like us, the demons knew their enemies were getting assembled, and were doing likewise.

I turned around to see Lady S'theno emerging from a nearby portal, along with two massive, brutish sea creatures. These in turn led a host of naga, murlocs, and dragon turtles. We had landed next to the remains of a ruined kaldorei temple, the perfect site to establish our base camp.

"We shall make our stand here," I announced, "drawing a line between Faronaar and the rest of Azsuna. Either the Legion will trample us on its way to conquer the rest of the area…or we'll succeed in pushing them off the island and out of Azsuna completely."

Turning toward the murloc slaves, S'theno barked a series of commands at them in Nazja, and the smaller creatures hastened to begin harvesting nearby resources.

"We shall have our base up in no time," she reported. "Our workers are very efficient."

"We can't be too far behind the Legion," added Kor'vas, "or they would have swarmed over this area already. They must have taken over Faronaar just recently."

"They won't hold it for long," said Kayn, grinning wickedly.

"Ah, good to see you've got boots on the ground."

I turned to see Khadgar emerging from a portal.

"Archmage," I greeted. "Have you come to assist us, perhaps?"

"Not just me," he replied. "I have also taken the liberty of reaching out to the mages of the Tirisgarde and the rogues of the Uncrowned, informing both that you have entered the area. If we do not stop the Legion invasion at Faronaar, they will swarm over the rest of Azsuna."

"That's why we're here," I replied, before noticing Khadgar glancing at the naga uneasily. "Is something wrong?"

"When I informed the other Orders that the Illidari had arrived, I was unaware that you had brought…"

"We brought what members of the Illidari we felt were best suited for the task at hand," I replied diplomatically, though I knew we both heard the demonic growl in my voice.

"I see," he replied. "I suppose some unorthodox methods are in order when it comes to defeating the Burning Legion—"

"You knew full well that the naga were a welcome part of the Illidari, having been on Outland during Lord Illidan's reign," I pointed out. "You want the Illidari's help against the Legion, you'll get _all_ of the Illidari's help. Take it or leave it."

He nodded, though I could still see that the archmage was uncomfortable with allying with naga, of all creatures, even if they fought alongside the Illidari. All the more reason for S'theno and her people to be here.

By this point, the murlocs had successfully established a series of tents, along with a command table. Moving over to the latter, I unfurled a map of the area.

"Here's where we are," I told Khadgar, pointing at the map. "Our fighters will move down the front lines and push the demons back to the island. Meanwhile, it would be advantageous for the Tirisgarde and the Uncrowned to move around the far side, entering Faronaar here, by the southern coast. With the demons focusing their full attention on us, the last thing they'll expect is a team of both mages and assassins attacking their flank."

"A two-pronged attack," said Khadgar, stroking his chin thoughtfully.

"Whatever representatives you care to send can meet our main forces there on the island," I finished. "By the time we've pushed the demons back, the Legion will have caught word that the Illidari have joined the fight. It'll take the combined might of all three Orders to liberate the rest of the island."

"I have full confidence in the commanders leading the other two factions," replied Khadgar, "and will relay the plan to them. As a show of good faith, I will personally lead a host of Kirin Tor magi in assisting your defense of the camp. Tell, how do you feel about arcane golems?"

I grinned in response. Perhaps this would work out after all.

* * *

Wrinkling my nose in disgust, I spat on the ground.

"I'm guessing you're not a fan of beaches?"

Turning toward Kor'vas, I gave a half-hearted smile.

"The salt in the air…it's almost suffocating," I replied. "And now it's been laced with fel energies. Much has changed about me—about us—but I suppose I'm still elven enough to prefer the serene beauty of our woodland home."

"We'll get there soon enough," she assured me. "The Archdruid's business with us has not yet run its course."

"Right, one thing at a time," I agreed. "Make ready our forces. We strike now."

Unsheathing my warglaives, I leapt down into the shallows. The area separating the island of Faronaar from the rest of Azsuna was wide and open, perfect for an all-out assault. I could feel the fel energies within me activate as a squad of felguard marched down the sandy embankment, followed closely by a trio of felhounds. It had been too long since the Illidari had been in a real fight. Moments later, Kor'vas landed on the ground to my left, while Lady S'theno slithered up on my right.

There is no other way to describe what happened next: chaos and carnage ensued. As if in response, countless demons poured down from the island, with just as many demon hunters and naga doing the same from the other end of the battlefield. Decapitating a felguard, I realized that I had forgotten how much I had missed the thrill of a real battle. Akama had been a worthy opponent, but nothing compared to the chaos of the Burning Legion. Their numbers were infinite, their soldiers bloodthirsty and unrelenting. To so many others, these demons were a truly unstoppable force.

To us, they were merely sport.

Lady S'theno hissed, issued orders to her own soldiers, and the naga bombarded the demons with various spells of lightning and ice, as the great brutes flattened anything in their way. Bolts and blasts of fel incinerated entire squads of felguard, as eredar were either crushed by the dragon turtles' heavy weight, or worse, devoured completely.

Watching Kor'vas cut a bloody path through the Legion's forces, hacking off limbs at various angles, I couldn't help but stare in awe. I had also forgotten just how ruthless and bloodthirsty she could be. At times, Kor'vas was nearly as vicious as the demons themselves.

It was beautiful. A 'sane' elf would have thought me mad, but there was no other word for the scene of relentless destruction that played out before me. The way Kor'vas hacked her way through entire groups of felguard, bathing herself in their blood. The way the sizzling liquid clung to her body, glowing bright green against her lavender skin…

Suddenly, Kor'vas leapt toward me, and I realized a second too late that she had vaulted over my head to dispatch an eredar that had snuck up behind me. The demon's head rolled across the ground to rest at my feet, trailing blood that hissed and burned away at the ground like acid.

"Head in the game," she quipped.

I cursed myself for my weakness, channeling my anger into demonic fire that poured from my eyes to reduce another eredar to a pile of ash. It seemed that the elf and demon within me remained in a state of conflict. But right now, I needed the latter. This was no time for sentiment.

Noticing the way the demons continued to pour from Faronaar on all sides, I also realized we needed to be able to contain them, if we wanted to push the Legion back.

"Line up!" I yelled. "Form a defensive wall! Leave them no room to squeeze through!"

I heard Kor'vas and S'theno both repeat my commands down the line. Slowly but surely, the various naga and demon hunters assembled into a long line of warriors, advancing as one. The hulking brutes and vicious dragon turtles were interspersed among these, such that even those few demons who were clever enough—or simply cowardly—to try maneuvering around our forces were easily cut down. The Burning Legion may have once been an unstoppable force, but now it was the Illidari that had proven insurmountable.

As the island finally came into view, fewer and fewer demons raced out to meet us. At the sight of arcane magic blasting away at their forces, I understood why.

"Keep pushing!" I shouted. "Our allies have arrived. Together, we shall retake Faronaar. For Azeroth!"

"For Azeroth!"

Watching the naga and demon hunters add their spells to those used by the Tirisgarde, I almost wondered if my demonic vision were not toying with my mind. Even a day ago, I never would have believed it: here were the naga and a host of demonic elves slaughtering demons in alliance with races as diverse as gnomes, humans, dwarves, draenei, and so many others. From the shadows, these others emerged wielding deadly blades as the Uncrowned made their appearance. Just as diverse in membership, the assassins tore their way through entire groups of demons with razor-sharp blades that struck with surgical precision. These were the seeds of defiance that the Legion had sown among our people. For so long, the demons had preyed upon the divided races of Azeroth. Now the world's denizens had united, and the Legion stood no chance.

Looking up at the banners of our three Orders, the bright violet of the Tirisgarde alongside the fel green of the Illidari and the midnight blue of the Uncrowned, I knew that this was just the beginning. Together, we had made the push onto Faronaar, and secured our place on the island. Next, we would push them out of the rest of Azsuna.

And in time, all of Azeroth would be freed.


	16. The Sting of Betrayal

Chapter 16: The Sting of Betrayal

 _Disclaimer: I do not own World of Warcraft, which is the property of Blizzard Entertainment. I make no profit from this story, which is purely for entertainment purposes._

At any other time, it might have worried me that I found the stench of fel more appealing than the natural salt-and-sand of Azsuna.

But as with everything else about being a demon hunter, this too had its uses. As the Illidari, Tirisgarde, and Uncrowned began leading our forces inward, it was like following a trail of rotten, demonically-corrupted breadcrumbs. Even the less-attuned mages and rogues wrinkled their noses in disgust.

We were getting closer to the commander leading this invasion, of that there could be no doubt. From the ruined courtyard in which our three Orders had announced our presence, the path split in three directions. Each lead further in to the endless soot-stained canyons and smoking valleys that now defined the isle of Faronaar.

"During our initial assault, the Legion took many of our Warden allies hostage," said the leader of the Uncrowned, pointing down one of the paths. "Based on intelligence reports, their factories are down this way. The demons are likely keeping their prisoners alive for use as fuel."

"We've made contact with a number of blue dragons in the area," added the Archmage of the Tirisgarde, pointing at another passage. "Even from this distance, the dragons give off an incredibly strong magical signature, one that the demons will likely seek to corrupt for their own ends."

"Both the Wardens and the dragons will no doubt prove to be invaluable allies in this war," I agreed.

Turning around, I swept my unseeing gaze over our forces. Between the three orders, we had made great strides securing the island, but with more casualties than I had hoped.

"Belath, Asha, go help the Uncrowned free the Wardens," I ordered. "Jace, Allari, and S'theno, take our host of naga with you and aid the mages of the Tirisgarde. The rest are with me: we'll storm the Legion's base of operations and clear the way for our new allies."

Needless to say, my decision was met with some criticism.

"With all due respect, Slayer," replied the Archmage, "my mages are fully capable of tackling the demons on our own, and—"

"Will incur fewer losses by relying on the strength that the Illidari can provide," I finished.

I didn't bother to add that approval among the Tirisgarde seemed entirely based on race: those clearly descended from the Highborne, for example, seemed to have no problems fighting alongside naga and demon hunters.

"The naga will obey your orders as if they were my own," I promised. "Lead them as you would any other group of soldiers. But if we are to save our world from the Burning Legion, we must be willing to use every weapon at our disposal."

The Archmage nodded reluctantly, though I could sense that several of the Tirisgarde remained ill at ease.

 _This is your chance to prove yourself_ , I thought to S'theno.

 _The naga shall do our part in eradicating these foul creatures_ , she replied. _You have our word on this._

"Do the Uncrowned have any similar 'discomforts'?" I asked.

Their leader shrugged with obvious disinterest.

"Whatever gets the job done," replied the Shadowblade.

I nodded respectfully. This type of pragmatism was what I had always admired about rogues.

With our assignments laid out, the three Orders proceeded down their respective paths, divided but unified.

* * *

Needless to say, the Legion's commander wasn't going to be just waiting there for us to kill him. We couldn't have gone a mile down the middle passage before a horrible screeching reverberated all along the blackened, rocky walls.

"Defensive positions!" I yelled. "Ambush from above!"

Sure enough, an opening volley of felbats, doomguard, and infernals rained down upon us. The infernals and doomguard filled the canyon, crowding the passage as the felbats bombarded us with blasts of felfire.

"I do not wish to be buried in here, brother!" yelled Vandel, impaling an infernal before it could flatten him.

"Nor I!" yelled Kayn.

Glancing all around the canyon, I noticed how uneven the walls were. They were also likely to be unstable after being subjected to the Legion's foul magics.

"I have a plan," I told Kor'vas, before slicing open a doomguard's stomach. "But you're not going to like it."

Kor'vas vaulted over me and beheaded another doomguard from above, before then leaping around the foul, smoking organs that had spilled out from the demon I had slain. She followed my gaze toward the infernals, before I pointed at the rock walls.

"You're right!" she yelled, gutting another doomguard. "I don't like that plan!"

"Just make sure everyone else gets clear!" I ordered.

"Damn it, Velscar—"

Without waiting for her to tell me how stupid I was, I leapt at the canyon wall and kept climbing. I climbed higher and higher, until I was finally within reach of a felbat. Vaulting off the canyon wall onto the creature, I drove my warglaives into its back, grit my teeth against the resulting shriek, and forced my new mount to fly low through the passage…right at the infernals.

Giving a sharp whistle, I threw my glaive at the nearest demon, before steering the bat around the giant demon in a circle, before then flying off to round up the remaining demons. Naturally, this proved easier said than done—all the doomguard and felbats now focused their attention on me. Below, I could see the other demon hunters fighting their way down the hill at the end of the canyon, with Kor'vas and Kayn at their head. As countless felbolts flew straight at me, I channeled magic into my tattoos, calling forth a shield to fend off the magical assault. Unfortunately, the wards were only a temporary measure, and every demon in the canyon was now firing on me.

"Just a little more," I muttered.

Sweat poured down my face as I fought just to concentrate. More and more felbolts impacted on my shield. Steering the felbat downward, I circled around the infernals one last time. The giant demons swatted at me as one might a bothersome insect. Standing upright, I leapt off the felbat, diving straight at the nearest demon. I heard the dying shriek of my mount moments later, but forced myself to focus on the wall of living stone-and-lava that I now clung to. Looking up, I glared straight into the face of hell itself.

It's common knowledge that infernals are among the most destructive and chaotic demons that serve the Burning Legion. What is less well-known is that their unstable volcanic energies could, in theory, be turned into a bomb.

I strongly suspected this was because nobody had ever been crazy enough to actually try such a thing.

Until now.

The infernal gave a roar of defiance as bright green flames poured from my eyes, directly into its fiery, demonic heart. All the while, I directed bolts of fel energy toward other parts of its 'body.' Thus, even as it fell to the ground beneath my assault, the infernal did not crumble to pieces as it should have. Instead, my spells began reshaping the stone, sealing the infernal's body shut to prevent any excess fel from escaping. More and more of the destructive magic poured into the demon from my eyes.

All that unstable, fiery energy was becoming trapped inside the infernal's twisted frame.

This was going to be a really big bomb.

"Vel, that's enough!" yelled Kor'vas. "Let go and get out of there!"

One thing I hadn't told her was that I actually didn't know how to stop channeling the spell. Now locked within the spell, I could do nothing but stand there atop the infernal-bomb and give myself over to the magic. My new bomb now swelled and glowed with concentrated destruction, all of which was about to quite literally blow up in my face.

By this point, the demons had stopped firing on me, having failed to penetrate my shields through magic. Which meant they were now resorting to close combat; as the sound of stomping hoofs and the beating of leathery wings grew louder, I allowed myself a triumphant grin. Perfect.

A demonic roar sounded behind me, followed by the metallic _shing_ of a blade being readied. So, I was going to be executed from behind. If only the pathetic wretches knew that killing me meant their own downfall, as well.

I braced myself. It would be over soon.

Then, something slammed into me, knocking me away from the bomb and out of the spell matrix. I felt myself rolling down the hill, along with whoever it was that had knocked me away. I knew that without me, the fel energies would grow unstable, and sure enough, a blast far louder than anything I had ever heard resounded throughout the canyon. I looked up to see the infernal's remains cracking apart, as all the demonic fire that had been trapped inside now burst forth, like lava gushing from the depths of the earth.

The demons howled in fury, but also in fear. Only now did they realize what I had been up to. A river of felfire washed over them as the chaotic energy exploded all around the canyon, which in turn fell apart under the strain of all that unstable magic. The few demons that avoided drowning in felfire or being blown to pieces were now buried under about a hundred layers of solid rubble.

"Just as planned," I announced triumphantly.

Immediately, a battle-hardened palm slapped across my face, and I knew the identity of my rescuer.

"I guess I should know what to expect, at this point," said Kor'vas. "It's always the suicidal death-wish plans with you, isn't it?"

She did not look amused. Very well, this would be a serious conversation.

"No sacrifice is too great if it means an end to the Burning Legion," I replied, holding her gaze. "I trust you will remember that, _soldier_."

I immediately turned away and marched toward the other troops, refusing to even think about the truth of her words. I hated myself more than ever, if that were possible.

* * *

Finally, the passage led up to a large hill overlooking the canyon. The stench of fel energy was now overpowering. This wasn't the only indication that we had found what we were looking for: a large portal rested atop the hill, flanked by two large generators, each of which hummed with power. Planning tables, scrying crystals…everything else a command center might need adorned the hilltop. We had found the Legion's base of operations. Now all that remained was to find the commander.

We didn't have long to wait: two elven figures emerged from the portal to greet us. One was clad in the armor of a Warden.

The other was far more familiar.

"Cyana," I growled. "Why?"

"Power, of course," replied our former ally. "You have been replaced, Velscar. I have found a new mentor, one who has shown me the ways of the Legion. I am now more powerful than any of you!"

"A Warden, working for the Legion?" asked Kor'vas. "I look forward to taking your life."

"So that's how Gul'dan wormed his way into our vault!"

I turned to see a group of Wardens appear from the shadows, followed by Belath, Asha, and the Uncrowned.

"Hello, sisters," said the fel Warden. "I'm surprised any of you managed to survive."

"Cordana…we would rather die than call you sister!"

"If you insist," replied Cordana.

Raising her arms, the fel Warden began chanting, and a host of felhounds leaped out from the shadows at the Uncrowned. A squad of felguard and doomguard marched out from the portal, and once again the Illidari became locked in combat.

"Fear not, commander!" hissed Lady S'theno, as she and the other naga slithered up to join us. "The Tirisgarde have freed their dragon alliesss! They ask only that we hold out for a minute more!"

Nodding in appreciation, I now turned my attention to Cyana, and began hacking my way through the demons to reach her.

Kor'vas was closer to the traitor though, and she now leapt onto the top of the hill to engage Cyana in combat.

"I always knew you were a bad seed!" snarled Kor'vas. "Guess you finally cracked, huh?"

"I have seen the truth!" Cyana retorted. "The Legion gives me more power than I could ever dream of!"

Cursing myself, I reluctantly turned my attention to the surrounding demons. I hated it, but I knew that I had to trust Kor'vas to handle herself. It was Cordana I needed to reach; the fallen Warden was the one holding the spell that continued to summon in ever more demons. We would soon be overrun if she wasn't stopped.

Parrying a felguard and tearing open its stomach, I leapt around a felhound and dove beneath a doomguard's mighty blow, dismembering both demons as I did so. There were too many to handle. Where were the Tirisgarde?

Then, a loud roar filled the air. But this was no demon's roar. No, this sound was majestic and triumphant, and infinitely more ferocious than anything the Legion could come up with. While I had no personal experience with their kind, I knew that such a battle cry could have only come from a _dragon_.

And not just one dragon either. Entire scores of giant blue dragons now descended upon the battle. Everywhere, demons were frozen solid and shattered moments later. The demons' command center quickly followed suit as the Blue Dragonflight made sure that no trace of the Burning Legion would remain on Faronaar.

Cordana seemed to realize that she was now completely outmatched, and as the dragons now turned their gaze upon the portal generators, the fel warden turned and vanished, reappearing right next to the glowing green gateway. I snarled and fought even harder, but it was too late. Moments before the portal imploded upon itself, Cordana leapt through and vanished.

"Mistress! Do not forsake me!" begged Cyana.

"Pathetic," snarled Kor'vas. "You always were the weak link, Cyana. Always striving for power, but having none of your own. How does it feel to be abandoned, to know you're not even worth the dust beneath our feet?"

Whether it was Cordana's escape or Cyana's own weakness, the traitor was quickly giving ground to her opponent. My mind flashed back to our training sessions, all those years ago. Cyana had always been bloodthirsty, but now I realized that Kor'vas spoke the truth. She was the classic Legion recruit: power-hungry to a fault, she had accepted strength that was not her own. Now there remained no other fate for her but death.

Cyana roared in fury and tried to shift from defending to counterattacking, but to no avail. Kor'vas had left her no such opportunity, and as Cyana now let her guard down, Kor'vas' glaives cut deep into the traitor's stomach. Cyana coughed up bright green blood, which dripped down her chest. As she fell to her knees, I could see that Cyana knew the end had come. A better person might have shown her mercy, or at least felt some sort of pity.

Kor'vas did exactly what I would have done: sliced the traitor's head clean off her shoulders.

The demons clearly felt the death of their commander, as there arose a chorus of dismay and fury among the remaining Legion forces. But between the Illidari, the Wardens, Uncrowned, and now the Tirisgarde and the Blue Dragonflight, there was nowhere left for them to run.

Standing there amongst our victory, I met Kor'vas' gaze and nodded in respect. I knew we had much to talk about, but for now, the battle was over.

The island of Faronaar had been liberated from the Burning Legion.

And before long, all of Azsuna would also be freed.


	17. A Clash of Scales

Chapter 17: A Clash of Scales

 _Disclaimer: I do not own World of Warcraft, which is the property of Blizzard Entertainment. I make no monetary profit from this story, which is purely for entertainment purposes._

"So this will take us to…what was it you called it?" I asked.

"The Eye of Azshara," replied Archmage Vynelle

He had a rather thin physique that still sported a generous amount of muscle, with short-cropped hair that was unnaturally blonde. His face was still hard and rugged enough to not be entirely elven. The dead giveaway, of course, were the ears: while they stood upright like those of the sindorei, Vynelle's were much shorter, like those of a human's.

A half-elf, then.

Staring into the portal, it was impossible not to be transfixed: the swirling waters rose up and crashed against each other in an endless cycle, forming a writhing, whirlpool-like gateway. Even my own demonically-enhanced vision could not penetrate the depths of this portal—the naga that had conjured it was a very powerful sorcerer, indeed.

Reluctantly, I returned my attention to the Archmage as he continued.

"Working together with the spirits of Prince Farondis and his Highborne court, the Tirisgarde and the Uncrowned managed to track down the broken shards of the Tidestone of Golganneth."

A soft, whispery sound caught my ear, like that of the gentlest breeze. I turned to see a lupine form emerging from the shadows. The Uncrowned were led, as it turned out, by a particularly dark-furred worgen who called herself Reen.

"But those bloody naga managed to snatch up the shards right out from under us," she growled. "Led by a witch named Lady Hatecoil, they repaired the Tidestone of Golganneth and vanished through that portal. Now they're using the stone to call down their queen's wrath on the entire region of Azsuna."

"The island lies to the far southeast, off the shore of Azsuna," finished Vynelle. "And the Uncrowned report an entire encampment of naga lying between us and the Tidestone."

"Lady Hatecoil…" snarled S'theno. "She was alwaysss a sycophant, blindly seeking our queen's favor. She hasss no vision, no idea of what kind of road Azshara isss leading the naga down."

"Then you would fight your own people?" asked Vynelle.

"Gladly," replied S'theno. "I assume your Archmage Khadgar has told you about the Old Ones?"

Vynelle's expression darkened at the name. I myself had heard little of these 'Old Gods,' besides the stories: darker than the Scourge, older than the Titans, and more evil than the Legion, these planet-eating parasites knew only endless hunger, and had devoured just as many worlds as the demons themselves.

"Yes, we have met their kind before," muttered the archmage.

"Then you underssstand that an allegiance with the Illidari is the only hope for the naga," said S'theno. "Just as the draenei sought protection from the Burning Legion by joining the Alliance, so do I seek to preserve my people from the Old Gods. In thisss, we have much in common with the other races."

"Perhaps," muttered the Archmage.

He did not sound convinced.

"The naga and the elves have a mutual ancestry," I pointed out. "Both are descended from the Highborne—"

"But I am not fully an elf, nor am I fully a human," interrupted Vynelle. "Where, then, should my loyalties lie, when my own ancestry is in question?"

"If there's one thing I've learned from my time in the Illidari," I replied, "it's that we shape fate by our own wills. Elf or human, you are as much an individual as I am. And so are the naga."

"Suppose we'll be seein' you put your money where your mouth is soon enough, then," said Reen.

"Our forces are all assembled," said Vynelle, "and the Tidestone awaits us. Move out!"

* * *

The Archmage hadn't been kidding when he'd mentioned an army of naga—a barrage of serpent-like hisses and deep-throated snarls greeted us the moment we set foot on the island. It wasn't hard to see where these noises came from, either: from the small hill on which the portal back to Azsuna rested, a massive coastline extended outward. The sandy beachhead and short-cropped grasslands were covered in a variety of large tents, and banners, all of which sported the likeness of Queen Azshara.

"So much for the surprise attack," muttered Reen.

"S'theno!"

The loudest roar of all came from a massive naga general whose scales were darker than those of his soldiers. Slithering into view, he brandished a massive trident in our direction, his expression one of pure malice.

"Ah, Parjesh," greeted S'theno. "Have you come to surrender?"

"It is you who should surrender, witch," snarled the warlord. "You dare turn your back on your queen, to side with these paltry mortals?"

"It is you who would turn your back on our people," she countered. "You know not what dark deals Azshara has made for power. Our 'queen' shall be the death of us all."

Parjesh snorted derisively.

"So be it!" he bellowed. "My life for Azshara! Ssslay them all!"

As soon as he gave that order, the Hatecoil charged us en masse. Their sirens flung spells of deadly lightning and foul-smelling poison, as myrmidons brandished their massive tridents and enormous brutes caused earthquakes with every step.

But the Lady S'theno had these same forces under her command, and they were joined by a host of mages, rogues, and demon hunters, as well. Before I could process what was happening, I found myself rolling beneath a pair spear strikes and slicing apart the first of many scaly, slimy bodies. My nose wrinkled in disgust—naga were a far cry from the demons of the Legion. The entire area stank with a damp, wet odor as blood and scales flew everywhere.

Vynelle snapped his fingers, and an entire squad of naga went up in flames, their once-clammy flesh now roasting within the column of magical fire. The mages of the Tirisgarde were quick to follow his lead, and summoned showers of icy shards and columns of fire to destroy entire squads of Hatecoil.

The dark figures of the Uncrowned emerged from the shadows to surround our enemies. The Wardens spun and struck as if in a dance, as the various pirates, thieves, and assassins dispatched their foes with all manner of crude and deadly weaponry. I almost felt sorry for one particular naga who fell to a pirate's Molotov cocktail. Shrieking, the burning, flailing serpent slithered toward the water as fast as he could, only to ignite every single one of his comrades along the way.

As for the Illidari? Any lingering doubts about the Coilskar's allegiance had utterly vanished. If I wasn't so concerned with fighting for my life, I would have marveled at the sight: everywhere, the naga of the Coilskar, clad in their purple-and-green tabards, fought against those still loyal to Azshara. Sirens dueled with deadly, flesh-melting curses, as myrmidons cut each other to pieces. The gigantic, amphibious brutes crushed entire squads of naga their giant fists smashing into everything. It was a disturbing sight, one that also cut deep, and I doubled my efforts in breaking through to the warlord—if the Coilskar died here, then it would be all for nothing.

"We must advance!" shouted Kor'vas, dancing around a myrmidon's outstretched lance to slice open a siren's throat.

"Right!" I yelled back. "Cut through to the Tidestone!"

"Our forces shall keep the naga's primary army at bay," replied Reen, her poisoned blades digging into the flesh of a myrmidon.

"While we assault Azshara's lieutenants," added Vynelle.

* * *

"Hmph!" snorted Parjesh. "So, you've made it to me…no matter, weaklings! Now, it's just you and me…and my guards!"

The naga warlord awaited us at the edge of a cliff overlooking the lagoon. Snarling, he brandished a massive spear at our forces, eyeing S'theno in particular. A host of armored naga teleported in to answer the warlord's call as Parjesh charged straight at us. Vynelle teleported all around the area, sending blasts of fire, ice, and arcane energy at Parjesh' soldiers. Reen danced and vaulted around their blows, before digging her blades deep into their sides. The foul stench of poison arose every time she struck, and this was always accompanied by cries of pure agony.

Meanwhile, S'theno traded blows with the general.

"Like fish in a net," cackled Parjesh, slashing at the Coilskar captain. "You have nowhere to hide!"

"I am done hiding!" she snarled back.

Though Parjesh was strong, with effort S'theno managed to parry his blow. Putting her webbed hands together, she then sent out a beam of freezing water at Parjesh. But the Hatecoil general was stronger than he looked, and raised a single, massive arm to fend off the magical assault. His other hand held that deadly trident, and now readied himself to throw it straight at S'theno.

I raced toward Parjesh, but more of the Hatecoil emerged to block my path. Amid all the bloodied scales flying everywhere, I could see that S'theno was about to become the warlord's next victim.

Unless…

As more of Parjesh' soldiers warped in to do battle, I turned and slashed at one such myrmidon, striking at his side. It was a deadly blow, but non-lethal. Rather, I made sure my glaive cut just deep enough into the cold, scaly flesh to induce paralysis. The Hatecoil roared defiantly, his razor-sharp teeth snapping right in my face. But it did him no good; the best he could hope for was the naga equivalent of a limp.

Touching my fingers to my forehead, I immediately relayed my plan to Vynelle, hoping that the Archmage would do his part.

Otherwise, I had just sent Lady S'theno to her doom.

I turned toward Parjesh just in time to see S'theno vanish in a bright, blue light. She reappeared right next to me…where the Hatecoil myrmidon had been a moment ago.

The unfortunate naga, meanwhile, had been teleported back in S'theno's place, and now found himself impaled on Parjesh' lance.

"Foolsss!" roared Parjesh in surprise and fury. "Get out of my way!"

"Now, S'theno!" I yelled.

Nodding, the Coilskar captain again put her hands together, and sent a crackling beam of deadly lightning at Parjesh' exposed backside. The naga warlord howled in agony as the crackling energy ate away at his scaly flesh.

"Finish him!" yelled S'theno.

As Vynelle added his magic to her spell, Reen, Kor'vas, and I leapt into slice apart the naga warlord, piece by piece. The very air now burned with the stench of scorched naga as S'theno and Vynelle utterly incinerated Parjesh with a barrage of fire and lightning.

"Well done," said Vynelle, "but we still have far to travel. Look there, in the distance."

Following his gaze, I could see the figure of a naga sea witch supervising multiple sirens down in the lagoon. The naga were all assembled in a circle, and seemed to be channeling some sort of spell.

"That is where we shall find the Tidestone," reported S'theno. "I can sssense the strange magicsss being worked there."

"Then there's no time to waste," I said. "Let's move!"

* * *

By the time we made our way down the long, grassy hill to the watery lagoon below, the wind had begun to shift, and the roar of thunder echoed in the distance.

"The ritual is already underway!" announced S'theno. "We must hurry!"

"S'theno!?" shrieked the sea witch. "Rumors in Nazjatar abound that you had gone the way of Lady Vashj, but I always insisted you could never fall so far!"

"It is you who have fallen, 'Lady Hatecoil,'" snarled the Coilskar's commander. "Sssurrender the Tidestone, and we shall be on our way."

"You will know our queen's wrath first-hand as a reward for your betrayal!" screamed Lady Hatecoil. "Continue the ritual, my sisters! I will deal with them myself!"

Teleporting over to us, the sea witch raised her arms, and a great barrier of water rose up behind her, surrounding sirens and preventing access to the Tidestone of Golganneth.

"A ssstorm is gathering!" warned Lady Hatecoil.

Sure enough, the roar of thunder echoed once more, but it was closer now. Bolts of lightning rained down all around us, turning the watery areas of the lagoon into a deathtrap. Kor'vas, Reen, and I danced around these unsafe areas as we landed blows on the sea witch's sides. Vynelle and S'theno threw fiery bolts and blasts of lightning through the air to burn away at her scales.

"Fly!" shrieked the sea witch.

She opened her mouth wide to hiss at us, and an incredible wind blasted us all away. Vynelle quickly wove spells of levitation, and we all fell slowly back down to earth.

"Thisss is the power that you turned your back on, S'theno!" hissed Lady Hatecoil. "A storm is gathering, and there is no escape!"

The sea witch was not boasting idly. The wind had now become a hurricane. The lightning strikes were far more frequent, and even the rain falling from the sky began to feel wicked. This was the kind of magic that so many associated with the naga: the power to control both sea and sky, turning oceans and rivers into something dark and fearsome.

Stretching forth her hands, Lady Hatecoil sent out a blast of lightning directly at S'theno. The Coilskar captain quickly performed a counterspell and held the attack at bay. The two naga were now locked in a deadly battle of wills, with a massive amount of highly volatile, incredibly destructive magic building between them.

"Thisss is the power that would destroy us all, 'sister'!" S'theno retorted.

"You are weak! You always have been!" shrieked the sea witch. "And now you shall be destroyed by the power of Azshara, the Light of Lights, She Who is Supreme Empress of Land and Sea—"

Lady Hatecoil's rant cut off with a piercing screech of pain as Lady S'theno slithered into the very center of the storm. The lightning bolts now hit S'theno directly, but did not harm her. Instead, she absorbed their energy, adding them to the spell that she now channeled against Lady Hatecoil.

"You think I am less of a naga for betraying Azshara?" she hissed. "Nay, I am _more_. I see a future for our people, one that no longer relies on the queen who sssold us out to the demons so long ago. Your faith in the queen blinds you to this day, Lady Hatecoil. It blinds you all. _Thisss_ is the power I have gained from breaking away from our queen!"

Pulling in all the power of Lady Hatecoil's storm directly into herself, S'theno drew back her webbed hands, clapped them together, then threw the full force of her spell directly at the enemy.

The power of a naga-made storm hit Lady Hatecoil head-on in an overwhelming blast of elemental energy. The relentless assault of wind, water, and lightning hurled the sea witch through the air, pinning her against the barrier. Even then, S'theno's spell continued to blast away at her, the magic going through the sea witch to freeze the barrier and then shatter it completely.

As the storm began to subside, the broken remains of Lady Hatecoil flopped uselessly back down onto the sandy beachhead.

* * *

"You are too late!" shrieked one of the sirens.

"The ritual is complete!" added another.

I paid their protests no mind as my glaives cut through cold, clammy flesh. Two more died to blasts of arcane magic, and the final naga was torn to pieces by Reen's eager daggers.

"There's the Tidestone!" yelled Kor'vas, pointing upward.

Sure enough, high above our heads, in the very center of the storm, there floated a great cluster of watery stones, held together by a series of deep blue lines that seemed to be just as much liquid as they were magical.

Before anyone could make a grab for the stone, the ground suddenly began shake. Lightning struck the area directly beneath the Tidestone, and a gigantic column of water burst forth from the earth. But this was no geyser: the water began to take shape, forming into a massive, serpentine creature. Stretching forth its watery jaws, the Hatecoil's monstrous creation devoured the Tidestone of Golganneth. The water now became flesh as the giant creature grew scales and fins and teeth.

" _The storm awakens!"_ it bellowed, the roar carrying all the force of a hurricane. _"Let the Wrath of Azshara be felt by all who would doubt the Queen's might!"_

Now a new storm began to brew, one that was all the more terrible and destructive than anything Lady Hatecoil had conjured. Brought to life by the Tidestone of Golganneth and empowered by naga magic, the full power of Azeroth's oceans now overwhelmed us all.

Before I knew what was happening, a gigantic wave of water swept over the lagoon. As easily as a child splashes his father at the beach, the Wrath of Azshara completely submerged the sandy beachhead beneath an entire layer of water. The pressure was overwhelming; I could barely move my limbs, and even as I fought to swim against the current, there now came a massive whirlpool, to drag all of us into the depths of the island.

Now I may as well have been paralyzed; I could no longer move at all, so strong were these waters. As the swirling, howling maelstrom pulled us all over the edge, into the dark abyss below, I felt only regret for those I had led to their doom.

But we did not drown.

To be sure, we were underwater: I could see the whirlpool dissipating into the watery ceiling above our heads. Yet, even as we floated there beneath the surface, air rushed in to fill my lungs.

Glancing toward S'theno, I nodded my thanks.

The Wrath of Azshara was, of course, displeased with our survival. With a roar that could be heard even beneath the surface, the mighty leviathan sank down to our level to finish the job.

Here, underwater, in its own domain, Azshara's monstrous creation became something else entirely. It almost seemed to shed its physical form, becoming as fluid as the waters that surrounded us. With a start, I realized why.

It _was_ water.

Like any of the elementals summoned by the shaman of the Earthen Ring, the Wrath of Azshara was composed of nothing more substantial than pure magic. I could see the Tidestone of Golganneth clearly now, lurking behind the Wrath's translucent form. That artifact was this creature's heart, and without it, the Wrath would simply vanish like any other summoned creature whose master had dismissed it.

Touching my fingers to my forehead once more, I relayed this plan to the others.

 _Easier said than done_ , thought Vynelle.

 _Sounds like the job of a lifetime,_ thought Reen.

Elemental or not, the Wrath remained deserving of its name. Its great maw opened wide as it roared monstrously.

" _DROWN!"_

Immediately I felt an unseen force throwing me back, and I hurtled through the water as the current worked against us.

 _Azshara is not the only one with the means to control the ssseas,_ thought S'theno. _Father Neptulon, I now call on thee for aid!_

And just like that, I could move again. I didn't waste any time in shooting forward, back toward the Wrath of Azshara. Casting a spell of immolation, I coated my weapons in fiery green flames. This should have been impossible underwater, but fel is the element of pure chaos, and thus is not bound by the same laws that govern Azerothian magic. This now worked to my advantage as I struck at the Wrath of Azshara. Steam rose from where I hit it, and Kor'vas followed up my assault with a series of felbolts, with S'theno adding her own lightning magic to the mix of deadly energies.

Vynelle also bent reality to his will, boiling the water that made up the Wrath. The watery behemoth now better resembled one of the volcanic trenches found at the ocean's bottom, as more and more steam rose from its form. Reen added to this assault by tossing out vials of foul, corrosive poison. While the toxins within would have eaten away at a flesh-based creature, they proved even more effective against the Wrath's watery frame, seeping into its form as if making direct contact with a victim's bloodstream.

" _SEEK…MAGIC…"_

But being a construct of Azshara herself, the Wrath was also incredibly skilled in the art of arcane magic, and it now transferred the energy of Vynelle's spell into a gigantic, glowing purple orb that sank toward the depths…and pulled all of us along with it.

 _"THIS WORLD WILL DROWN!"_

 _Father Neptulon, I pray thee for guidance once more_ , thought S'theno. _Grant my people this chance at a future. As surely as the rivers traverse the land, open for us this door. Let us embrace our watery homes and live in community with your eternal bounty._

And even as the arcane orb continued to fall, I felt an unseen force propel us up through the water. There was no way any of us would get close enough to the Tidestone, not like this. And then I realized what we had to do.

 _Vynelle, Kor'vas, follow my lead_ , I thought.

Pounding my fists together, I pooled my fel energies into one massive beam, directing it straight at the Wrath's heart. Another beam of fel joined mine, along with a glowing purple aura of arcane energy. This last spell kept the fel magic contained and focused on the point of impact, not unlike how a demon hunter's tattoos contain and control the fel energies within him.

Little by little, a gap began to widen in the heart of the Wrath, just wide enough for one person to swim in and seize the Tidestone of Golganneth.

It was as Reen and S'theno were almost within reach of the Tidestone that the gap suddenly began to close, even as the three of us doubled our efforts on keeping it open. I had wondered why the Wrath had suddenly halted its attack: it was now fighting just to keep us from our prize.

 _If you truly serve the Tidehunter, then now's your chance to prove it_ , I head Reen think.

And with that, the Shadowblade thrust both poinsoned daggers into the sides of the gap in the Wrath's heart. The blades alone did nothing, but as the gap began to close, the outer edges came into contact with the poison, and the ensuing roar told me that the toxin must have proved especially painful to the Wrath of Azshara.

Darting forward like one of the fish her people so resembled, S'theno snatched up the Tidestone of Golganneth, swimming out through the other end of the Wrath of Azshara.

 _In Neptulon's name, I claim this prize!_ She thought triumphantly. _For the preservation of all Azeroth, I banish thee!_

The Wrath of Azshara let out a great, mournful wail as its form began to melt away, the already-fluid form rejoining the waters that had composed it.

 _"WATER…Eter…nal…"_

Holding the Tidestone aloft, S'theno began chanting, and the stone glowed with a bright blue aura.

 _What is she doing!?_ Thought Vynelle. _Surely after all that…_

 _Stay your spells_ , I thought back.

The entire area suddenly shook as if rocked by an earthquake, and glancing up, I could see the water going _down_. Kicking off, I swam up to the surface and allowed myself to be carried down as all the water that flooded the island was now sucked back into the Tidestone of Golganneth.

The storm was over, and the Tidestone was ours. A bright, pinkish-orange glow crept over the dust-colored clouds as the sunset celebrated our triumph. Over on the hillside, I could make out a great many serpentine and humanoid figures raising their weapons into the air.

High above all of this, tacked to a broken mast, the banner of the Coilskar flew proudly.

* * *

"I have been to an alien planet, seen the laws of reality broken, repaired, and broken again," said Khadgar, "but I must admit, this is one tale I never would have thought possible. Naga against naga, fighting for the future of their people? And with the backing of the Tidehunter, no less? I would have hardly believed it myself, were the Tidestone not here before my very eyes."

"And yet, history repeats itself," I told him. "Orcs have fought with Orcs, Blood elves against their own, even the draenei have fought over what is best for their people. Now it is the Coilskar who seek to claim a new direction for their people. More importantly, this place…it is secure enough for such powerful magic? This stone did flood an entire island, after all. It's a Titan artifact."

"Oh yes, this chamber was constructed specifically to contain the most powerful of arcane energies," he assured me. "The Tidestone will be safe here, as will the other Pillars once they've been recovered."

"One last thing," I said, turning to leave. "This victory would not have been possible without Lady S'theno and the other Coilskar. I trust you will keep that in mind."

"The Illidari have more than proven their worth in preserving the future of Azeroth," he agreed, bowing slightly. "In time, I suspect that the Farseer of the Earthen Ring shall wish to arrange an audience with Neptulon himself. Until then, keep up the good work…but where do you think you will go next?"

"All this mending of old wounds has reminded me that I have my own appointments to keep," I called back. "Besides, the ocean and coastline has made me nostalgic for the trees of elven lands. If you need me for anything, you can find me down in Val'sharah."


	18. Chapter 18: The Bonds of Family

_Hey readers! Yes, I'm back, and I apologize a hundred times over for the long wait—real-world work has kept me so busy lately. Hopefully I can make it up to you with this new chapter…fingers crossed that you all like it!_

 _Disclaimer: I do not own World of Warcraft, which is the property of Blizzard Entertainment._

 _I make no monetary profit from this story, which is purely for entertainment purposes._

Chapter 18: The Bonds of Family

I inhaled deeply and allowed myself a rare smile. The stench of salt, sea, and sand had finally give way to the fragrant perfume of the many flowering plants of Val'Sharah. To my surprise, I found the environment more preferable, as well: even the fel-blasted beachheads where the Legion had made its mark on Azsuna were less to my liking than the elaborate, emerald blanket of life covering everything.

My relief went beyond just the scenery, though: here, then, was proof that despite all I had been through, I remained elven enough to have a love of homeland. Glancing over at Kor'vas, I could see she was having similar thoughts.

"Nice to finally see some green that isn't fel," she remarked.

"Lena would have loved these lands," I replied, picturing a violet, saber-toothed cat bounding through the trees and racing down the grassy hills.

There had been much activity around the Broken Isles since we claimed the Tidestone of Golganneth. Lady S'theno and her naga had been summoned to an audience with the Farseer of the Earthen Ring, a wise and powerful broken draenei named Waakira, who had just returned from Highmountain with the Hammer of Khaz'goroth.

It seemed that the naga would be blessed by the Tidehunter, after all.

As great as my curiosity had been, I had immediately been called away to an audience of my own.

 _"I have been unable to narrow down the exact location of the Master's soul just yet," reported Allari. "But I'm getting closer. Much closer. I can feel him near…somewhere dark and cold. It reeks of death."_

 _"The Scourge?" I suggested._

 _"Again, it's too soon to tell," she replied. "And given the current situation, I'd rather not cast aspersions without hard evidence."_

 _"Understandable," said Belath. "Go on."_

 _"Even if we claim the Master's soul, it will do us no good without somewhere to put it," she explained. "Souls need containers, be it a body or an inanimate object, to reside in. Otherwise, they become tormented and corrupted, serving only as a source of fuel for creatures like the Burning Legion."_

 _"So we must find a suitable vessel in which the Master's soul may reside," Kayn guessed, "until such time when we may recover his proper body."_

 _"Correct," she replied. "But this is no mere demon hunter we speak of. The Master's soul burns brightly, flaring with fel energy even now. His is as powerful as any of the Legion's commanders. No ordinary vessel will suffice."_

 _"Then what do you suggest, sister?" asked Jace._

 _"Why, if we cannot find a vessel," said Allari with a smile, "we must make one."_

 _"Would such a task be possible?" asked Kor'vas. "The amount of energy necessary—"_

 _"Will be great," she agreed. "It will be difficult, but not impossible. The construction of a soul prism capable of housing the Master's spirit will require vast amounts of soul energy in the first place. Powerful souls, from the strongest of demons and other such creatures."_

 _"Then I suppose it's a good thing we're in the middle of the largest invasion by the Burning Legion that Azeroth has ever seen," remarked Vandel dryly._

 _"Our path is clear, then," I announced. "But the situation remains unchanged. Kor'vas and I will continue on to Val'sharah and seek out the Tear of Elune. As we perform our various duties, we remain on the lookout for any demons whose souls may suffice for this task. Jace, Belath, you'll take Stormheim. Allari and Asha, return to Azsuna. Vandel and Kayn, Highmountain is yours. The creatures we seek will be powerful, so travel in pairs._ No one _hunts alone."_

A sudden feeling brought me back to the present, stirring my attention away from Lorlathil. I narrowed my eyes, directing my spectral sight outward into the wilds, seeking the subtle darkness I had sensed.

Nothing. Val'sharah remained as peaceful as ever.

"I don't recall inviting _your_ kind here."

Well, almost peaceful.

I turned with a scowl toward the elf who now approached, a sprightly female adorned in bright green garments the color of springtime. The glare on her face contrasted greatly with her optimistic attire.

"We come seeking the Tear of Elune," explained Kor'vas. "And to lend our aid, if necessary."

"We require no aid from the Betrayer's ilk," she sniffed. "And of all the creatures that walk this earth, why should the goddess bestow her blessed Tear upon the two of you? Truly, what have you done to yourselves? You're more akin to demons than night elves. The Archdruid will never stand for—"

"Thank you for your concern Sylvia. I shall handle it from here."

The three of us turned to see none other than the Archdruid himself marching up the hillside. There could never be any mistaking those famous antlers, that great green beard…not to mention the powerful-looking claws and majestic feathers that adorned the body of Malfurion Stormrage.

"Archdruid!" cried Sylvia. "These…creatures—"

"Are here at my invitation," he replied.

Sylvia stared at the Archdruid as if he had grown a horn in between his antlers. I could see the conflicting emotions on her face as she tried to process how the leader of the druids himself could sanction us demon hunters being in this fair realm.

"Rest assured, our sacred glade remains ours," said the Archdruid. "But the situation is such that we must welcome all aid…wherever it may be found."

"I…yes, Archdruid," Sylvia replied reluctantly, thumping a hand to her chest.

Motioning in our direction, the leader of the night elves began leading us away from the village of Lorlathil.

"How surprising…I didn't expect such charity from you, Archdruid," I quipped.

"Do not think I have so quickly forgotten our conversation at Stormwind Keep," he replied. "Tyrande and I have been in many a conversation about the Illidari's emergence in the days since."

"And?" prompted Kor'vas. "What have you decided?"

"That even if we never see eye-to-eye, we may still work hand-in-hand," he replied. "Or: Even birds of different feathers may yet flock together."

Saying no more, the Archdruid fell to his knees. Before our eyes, his form shifted. Fur as silver as the moon itself grew over his violet skin, and the antlers grew larger, longer. Hooves replaced his claw-like hands and feet. Now in the form of a great stag, the Archdruid inclined his head down toward us.

 _Shall we?_

It took me a moment to understand the full meaning of the question.

"You would…have us _mount_ you?" I asked, astonished.

Druid he may have been, but even Malfurion Stormrage could not have been so naïve as to miss the political implications of what he was suggesting.

 _If you are truly here to aid us, then I have nothing to fear, now do I?_

It was still a great risk for him to take, certainly a leap of faith on the Archdruid's part. Ignoring the astonished and even horrified comments by any onlookers, I leapt atop the great stag's back, pulling Kor'vas up in front of me.

Trying not to think about how good it felt to wrap my arms around her waist, I tried to focus on the surrounding landscape as the Archdruid bore us through the forest.

 _Val'sharah…ages ago, long before any kaldorei walked the path of the Cenarius, the Ancients molded this part of Kalimdor to be a reflection of the Emerald Dream itself. This is as close to the Dream as you will find in the waking world._

"Like the World Tree Nordrassil, that will likely make it a prime target for the Burning Legion," Kor'vas pointed out.

 _Indeed. We must hasten to recover the Tear of Elune and assemble the Pillars of Creation. Be sure that my druids as well as the priests at the Temple of the Moon stand ready._

"Do you know where the Tear might be found, then?" I asked.

 _I know of one who might. If any would have been entrusted with the safekeeping of that Tear, it will be the Lord of the Forest himself._

"Cenarius…" I said reverently.

Even to a demon hunter like myself, the power of the forest lord was to be respected, especially after all he had done for the kaldorei.

But wait…there it was again. Immediately my head darted to the right, like a hound that has caught the scent of its prey. The sensation was faint, but this time I was certain that I hadn't imagined it. Foul, but too subtle to make out anything else. Like a shadow skirting the very edge of my perception.

"Archdruid…" I began.

 _Ah, here we are! The Grove of Cenarius!_

It was as we entered the Forest Lord's realm that the stench hit me full-force, and I felt myself tumbling to the ground. Judging by her own reaction, Kor'vas had felt the same thing.

"What ails you, demon hunters?" asked the Archdruid in surprise, as he shifted back into the form of a night elf.

"Archdruid! You must come quickly! Something's happened!"

I looked up to see a young female druid running up to the Archdruid, even as he continued to bend over us. Pushing myself off the ground and hauling Kor'vas to her feet, I steeled myself against the overwhelming stench of darkness.

"I sensed it right as we entered the Grove," I told him. "Hurry!"

Sure enough, all was not well with Cenarius.

The Forest Lord appeared to be sleeping, though his movements were twitchy and agitated, as if he were trapped within some nightmare.

"A curse with the power to paralyze a demigod?" exclaimed the Archdruid. "I must summon Ysera!"

"Ysera the Dreamweaver?" asked Kor'vas.

An image of a great, emerald dragon filled my mind, one who flew even with her eyes closed, so mysterious and magical was she.

"The very same," replied the Archdruid. "The Grove of Cenarius, despite the state of its protector, remains a place of life and druidic power. I should be able to call on She of the Dreaming from here."

"What would you have us do?" I asked.

"Rally the other druids," he instructed. "We shall need all their aid if this ailment is what I suspect. The paths leading to each of their domains branch off from the village of Lorlathil. Follow the forest paths and bring the other druids here: those of the Vale, those of the Claw, and those of Lore."

* * *

"Something tells me the druids may not be as willing to ally with us as their leader," I said, trudging back up the hill toward Lorlathil.

"We don't need them to trust us," Kor'vas pointed out. "We just need to tell them that their leader needs them."

As we trudged back up the long, winding road to Lorlathil, I noticed that Kor'vas had gone silent.

"Something on your mind?" I asked.

"Nothing worth sharing," she muttered.

"Is it not?"

"Not if you've already made up your mind."

"Made up my mind? Kor'vas, what are you—"

"You really are a thick one, aren't you?" she asked with a snarl. "Made up your mind about us. About yourself."

"Where is this coming from?" I asked. "What's got so you angry all of a sudden?"

"This isn't 'all of a sudden,'" she barked. "This is about you and why you're so willing to throw yourself into harm's way without any regard for your own safety."

"So this is about Azsuna," I scoffed. "Is that all that's bothering you? Because I did what was necessary—"

"The fel you did!" she shouted. "This isn't just about Azsuna! It's about the story you told me about your old life. And Mardum. And Azsuna. And every other fight we get into where you fight as if you've got a constant death wish! But you're not protecting anyone, Velscar. You're just a coward without hope who can't see any future that doesn't involve the Burning Legion."

" _There is no future_ if the Burning Legion triumphs," I retorted. "You know that as well as I do. To that end, we must be willing to—"

"Sacrifice everything," she interrupted. "Even hope, apparently. But hope is all we have left. Otherwise, what else are we fighting for?"

Now all the anger drained away, and she looked at me with only pity.

I hated her for it.

" _There is no future_ ," I repeated. "Not for us. We are _demon hunters_. Illidari. Forever cursed to be outcasts, to fight the enemies of creation and receive not even the tiniest shred of gratitude. _That_ is our fate, Kor'vas. That is our curse."

Now the pain became physical as she struck my jaw, her nails cutting into my chin.

"Don't you dare lecture me on what it means to be cursed," she snarled.

I could only listen in shock at the emotion in her voice.

"You can't be so thick-headed that you missed the meaning behind my name," she continued. " _Kor'vas_. The cursed one. Three years, Velscar! For _three years_ I prayed to Elune for guidance, for peace! You have _no idea_ how it feels to be the only person not touched by 'the goddess' adoring radiance,' to have everyone else pray for your soul! To have that darkness eating away at you long before you ever took a demon into your body! So yes, Velscar, I am cursed, just like you! The only difference between us is that I let my pain motivate me. You just keep giving in to yours."

I would have happily killed anyone else if they had spoken to me the way that she did. But for Kor'vas, I stayed my hand.

Because some part of me knew she was right.

* * *

For better or worse, our argument came to an end upon our return to Lorlathil. It seemed that the same corruption I had sensed, the same corruption that now poisoned Cenarius, had been felt all over Val'sharah. The archdruids had already assembled at Lorlathil…or at least, two of them had.

There was no sign of Thaon Moonclaw, archdruid of the Moonclaw Vale.

As the other two archdruids quickly bounded off toward the Grove to aid their leader, I looked down the path that led to Moonclaw Vale.

To my demonic sight, the road might as well have been covered in blood. It seethed with the unknown corruption, and I knew that if not the root cause, then certainly a great symptom awaited us in the Vale.

* * *

Sure enough, the stench was stronger in Moonclaw Vale than anywhere else—it was practically suffocating. And it had now taken on a physical form, such that I didn't need demon eyes to see that something was wrong. Massive, nasty-looking roots had risen from the ground, winding their way all around the Vale, tearing into buildings, trees…everything. This could not have been any kind of druidic magic, for the roots were a deathly black and covered in gruesome blotches the color of blood.

The same sickly red aura covered everything else in the Vale, from the dying grass to the very raindrops that poured from the heavens.

Something in the forest had begun corrupting the druids' magic, perverting nature itself into something twisted and nightmarish.

This evil manifested itself in more forms than this. Reacting to our presence, several shadow-like images shimmered in the air, before taking on very familiar forms.

"Satyrs and imps…" I muttered. "So the Legion is here as well."

"Legion?" screeched one of the satyrs. "Fool! You know not what you truly face! Our black armies are far mightier than those paltry demons! The masters we serve shall bring about the spread of the Nightmare and purify this land of all life!"

"I've heard such ramblings before," growled Kor'vas. "From the Scourge. From the Legion. Whatever the truth, you will last no longer than either of them."

Sure enough, the foul creatures posed no real threat. But even as we cut them down, the satyrs continued to cackle madly. They almost seemed to welcome their death, the demons grinning maniacally as they choked out their final breaths.

"You cannot stop it. Nightmares will come for you all…"

"Enough of this," I growled. "Let's find that archdruid and get out of here."

Kor'vas kneeled to the ground, sniffing the air as she felt the earth.

"I sense anguish amongst all the chaos," she reported. "Anguish and fury."

Using my own senses, I nodded, for I could sense it too: the suffering of a leader who feels that he has failed.

"The archdruid probably stayed behind to defend what's left of the Vale," I replied. "Let's check the barrow dens."

Reaching the dens wasn't easy, as more and more of the satyrs appeared from the shadows to bar our path. Now another nightmarish reality came into play: the satyrs were certainly alive—or at the very least, animate—and so it was only natural that they should die. But even as we tore off limbs and cut into their flesh, even as the foul creatures gleefully fell to the ground, _they did not bleed_.

They were physical enough that our warglaives could harm them, and yet each vanished upon being slaughtered, as if the very demons that had once aided the Legion during the War of the Ancients were now little more than shades of the ancient past.

But ghosts or not, they could still do us a great deal of harm, as I discovered when a bolt of bleeding shadows impacted on my tattoos. The fel magic warded off most of the damage, but I was immediately filled with a sense of dread. There was death here, but it wasn't the icy chill that I would have associated with the Scourge.

No, this evil was far more insidious.

It didn't stop there, either. With every satyr killed, the unknown sense of dread grew ever stronger.

And it only grew more overwhelming as we drew closer to the barrow dens.

Then, the enemies simply vanished, as if in entering the barrows, we had crossed a threshold through which the creatures could not follow. Yet I felt no relief at finally being rid of the bleeding pests.

On the contrary, it felt more like we were walking into a trap.

Feeling wetness on my forehead, I reached up, and realized that I was sweating. My heart was pounding, and I suddenly found it very difficult to breathe.

"Impossible…" I gasped. "What's…"

Glancing over at Kor'vas, I saw that she was experiencing the same symptoms. The fight hadn't been _that_ exhausting. There was no way either of us should be this…

That's when it hit me: the darkness and the mysterious, corrupting stench.

It wasn't death.

It was fear.

Knowledge of what we faced did nothing to dispel the sudden, irrational _need_ to run from…from what? I didn't know, but something in me had responded to whatever insidious magic was being worked here. Even my inner demon seemed to quiver in terror, which definitely meant I should be worried. What kind of enemy did we face, that a demon would find reason to be afraid?

Shaking my head, I reached over and grabbed Kor'vas' hand firmly. Squeezing it tight, I activated my spectral sight as she did the same.

The shadows immediately rushed in, seeking to twist the magic of my demonic vision to their own ends. Had they succeeded, the darkness would have made me see more illusions.

But I refused to be played for a fool, and neither would Kor'vas. Channeling together, we willed reality to assert itself.

And just as we entered the deepest part of the barrow dens, the unknown fear shrunk away, like an animal that has suddenly met its better. The monstrous red aura followed suit, revealing the earthy walls of the barrow dens as they should be.

But there was no cause for celebration, for an even more gruesome sight awaited us in what used to be the archdruid's grove.

The corpse of a gigantic, saber-toothed cat lay in the center of the chamber, its violet-furred hide completely torn open. Frowning at the carcass, I sighed in defeat.

"Thaon Moonclaw…" I muttered. "We are too late."

Kneeling down, Kor'vas inspected the archdruid's wound.

"It is still fresh," she reported. "The killer may still be near."

As if knowing that it had been found out, the stench of corruption quickly returned to the chamber. My demonic senses immediately reacted in an all-too familiar way. I felt my mouth watering and realized that this new scent was not the corrupting fear we had felt before.

It was the burning stench of the Legion.

"Kor'vas, look out—"

She leapt away from the corpse of Thaon Moonclaw minutes before it burst into bright, green flames. The demonic fire spread to the far corners of the chamber, cutting off our exit and surrounding us completely.

"So we were right," growled Kor'vas. "The Legion is here."

"You don't know the half of it…"

Snarling, I drew my glaives at the sound of that demonic growl.

"Coward!" I yelled. "Show yourself!"

"If you insist…"

Then from behind the flaming green curtain came a monstrous, four-legged form, far larger than any felhound. Kor'vas and I both dove to the side, but I was a second too late. As the beast flew past, I felt a sharp pain sting my cheek. Reaching up to the wound, I saw that my fingers came away green.

"How disappointing. I had hoped you might be stronger than that…or at least faster. But then, I was always the better hunter…my dear, sweet little brother."

I was a demon hunter. I had fought and killed. I had been slashed, stabbed, burned, and obliterated.

But now all it took was a few words to make me feel as if someone had thrust their hand deep into my chest and torn out my heart.

"Impossible…" I whispered, wishing above all that my worst fear was just that.

But this was no illusion. Not this time.

As the now-humanoid form stepped through the demonic flames, I lost all feeling.

Her eyes glowed with the power of the Legion. Long, nasty-looking scars descended from those monstrous orbs. Her lips curled upward in an evil smirk, baring her razor-sharp fangs. Her forest-green hair now blazed with the power of the fel.

Despite all these changes, there could be no mistaking her. A ghost of the past she may have been, but she was very real.

Lenaria was alive.

And she was serving the Burning Legion.

"You died," I breathed.

"I _evolved_ ," she corrected, her words coming out in a low hiss, like the sound of hot steam issuing from a burned-out war machine.

"So did I," I shot back, even though I knew there was no use trying to reason with her. "I chose to fight those who took our home, our family, everything!"

"Because you're _weak_ ," she snarled. "You have no concept of true power. When Lord Kil'jaeden visited me the day our village burned, I saw that everything I had known before paled in comparison to the power of the Legion! Druidic magic? Shapeshifting into animals? Mere parlor tricks compared to the power that I now wield!"

Ever word was a dagger in my heart. Lenaria and I had been competitive as children. We had bantered, laughed at each other, teased one another. But now…the creature before me had become so twisted, so corrupted, that she now carried a very real desire to see me broken beyond all hope of recovery.

"Now you have a choice," continued the thing that had once been my sister. "Turn your back on that blind, pathetic excuse for a demon lord. Join me and we can rebuild our family. Choose true power and remake the universe! You need me, brother. I was always the stronger of us. You can be strong, too. Together, you can have everything you ever wanted. A family. A purpose. A life."

Her words were tinged with demonic energy, but there were other influences, as well.

So, she had been in the presence of the Deceiver. It seemed he had gifted her with some of his own unique powers. Even the tiniest fraction of the demon lord's lies was nearly impossible to resist.

"You're right, you were stronger than me," I admitted, fighting against the urge to submit. "And that's why, if there was ever any hope that you had survived, I thought you would have joined the resistance at Mount Hyjal. I thought you would have chosen to fight against those who took everything from us. To see you like this, Lena…it sickens me to see you so… _weak_."

Lena knew what kind of effect her words would have on me. But it seemed that all it took was that one word to set her off.

" _Weak_!?" screamed Lenaria, her voice rising to better resemble the shrieking animal she had become. " _Weak_!? I was always the better _hunter_ , the better _fighter_ , the better _killer_! You only _survived_ , while I _conquered_!"

It was then that I understood my sister as I never had, saw her for what she had always been. The drive to best me, the competitive streak…all along, it had been Lena who had been trying to cover her own weakness, Lena who had felt inadequate, Lena who'd felt she had something to prove.

And just as Kor'vas had looked upon me with pity, I now felt all my hatred toward this foul creature melting away, leaving only a bitter sympathy for the memory of my beloved sister.

"I never cared about how strong you were," I told her. "We competed, tested each other, but I never cared about trying to be stronger than you. I just cared that you were my sister."

"Then you're still just as weak as you've always been," she sneered, the glow in her eyes growing ever brighter. "It will give me great pleasure to deliver your pathetic, worthless soul to Lord Kil'jaeden."

Sickly green fur burst forth from her skin, and Lena caught on fire once more, the green flames licking across her frame as she got down on all fours. Long, jagged fangs dripping with venom grew from her mouth, and equally sharp claws dug into the ground as Lena's roar caused the walls of the cavern to quake all around us.

Once, I had wondered what sort of effects fel magic might have on a druid. It didn't seem possible for such conflicting powers to coexist. Yet Kil'jaeden had found some way to bestow the power of the Legion upon Lena while still allowing her to shapeshift.

The result was a beast more vicious than the most bloodthirsty of nightsabers, filled with the terrifying power of the Burning Legion.

Snarling, Lena leapt straight at me. But I was ready this time, and immediately raised my glaives to parry. Despite all the demonic powers she had gained, Lena remained as agile as ever, bounding off my glaives, over my head, and back into the wall of fel.

A memory tugged at my mind: that of a lean, violet cat leaping through the treetops of Ashenvale.

 _Mind your surroundings_ , I thought to Kor'vas. _She likes to play with her food_.

Glaives at the ready, we stood back to back, eyeing the deadly green flames that surrounded us. Together, we looked through the eyes of our demons.

The attack came not from the left or the right, or even behind, but rather from above. Shrieking more viciously than any felbeast, Lena descended claws-first. Kor'vas and I immediately separated, each throwing a glaive as we leapt away. Both glaives impacted on either side of Lena's burning hide, scoring deep gashes from which burning, acidic blood spilled onto the ground.

This only served to aggravate her more, and Lena now bounded all around the chamber, leaping back into the flames and jumping out from another angle. Patches of bright green flames formed on the ground where she landed.

"She's too fast!" yelled Kor'vas.

"I _am_ faster! I am _stronger_!"

Her voice seemed to come from all directions. It was impossible to know where she'd strike next. The green flames hid her form far better than the trees ever had.

An idea formed in my mind. The flames were still composed of fel energy. Like my sister, I had changed to become something far more demonic. But unlike her, I had held on to my sense of self through it all.

My plan felt like a great risk, but it was the only chance we had.

Quickly communicating my thoughts to Kor'vas, I joined hands with her, and our minds reached out toward the wall of fel. Four glaives spun in front of us as we channeled the spell. Twin beams of fel energy shot out from us, passing through the spinning glaives, and combining into one massive beam of energy. This blast impacted with the flames, siphoning its energy and taking the fel into ourselves.

Alone, it would have been suicide. Between the two of us, it was an overwhelming effort.

But somehow, Kor'vas and I managed to absorb all that chaos, infusing ourselves with it…and letting our inner demons burst forth.

It was time to show Lena what true power was really all about.

"Impossible!" she shrieked. "You are weak! The power of the Legion—"

"Is the true weakness, little fool," I spat, my voice growing heavier and darker. "You gave in to the power. We worked to master it."

As one, Kor'vas and I rushed toward Lena, slashing and blasting away at her. Our speed and strength had increased a hundredfold. Just as a warrior will struggle to parry the blows by a superior opponent, so too did Lena now strive to evade our blows and counter with her own. I barely felt her claws or fangs, so vicious were my own hate-filled strikes. Kor'vas blasted away at the foul creature with fel fire that poured from her eyes.

In one final, desperate move, Lena leapt away from us once more. Bouncing off the wall of the cavern, she leapt back toward Kor'vas. The flames covering the great, demonic cat now grew to an inferno, covering every inch of her. These flames seared through Kor'vas' demonic form, dispelling it as Lena knocked the demon hunter to the ground.

"Now I see…it is this girl who is your weakness," she hissed. "You have not lost everything…not yet. You are not fully broken. But you will be."

She raised her claws to deliver the killing blow.

But it never came.

A wave of fel energy shot out from my glaives, severing that twisted paw from the rest of her arm. Lena howled in rage and agony as Kor'vas stabbed upward into her belly.

Vaulting through the air, I slashed upwards from a low angle, knocking Lena away as my glaives raked across her mottled flesh.

With a sickening thump, the creature that had once been my sister crumpled to the ground.

But still she did not die.

Ignoring her ragged breathing and the foul stench of that accompanied it, I walked over to her, sheathing my glaives as I did so.

"Too…cowardly to deliver…the killing blow?" she spat. "You are still…so weak."

Her words meant nothing to me now, and I let that sentiment show on my face as I grinned wickedly.

"You think I will give you a quick death?" I asked. "You were right about one thing, Lena—you are strong. Demon or not, your soul burns bright with the power of the fel. Such power would be a waste to extinguish."

As I spoke, summoned forth a soul crystal and began invoking the spell. Lena's hate-filled eyes widened as she recognized the magic.

For the first time in her life, my sister was afraid of me.

"No…" she protested weakly. "No…you can't…brother…"

"I am no brother of yours," I replied. "And my sister is dead. You should be proud, Lena. Your soul will help us restore our master. It's rather poetic, really. The shattered remains of my old family will prove instrumental in restoring my new one."

And Lena could do nothing but lay there, gasping in her final, terror-filled moments as the fel-green crystal absorbed the essence of her twisted, demonic soul.

* * *

As we climbed out of the barrow dens, I sniffed the air. The corruption still lingered, but it seemed to have lessened considerably with Lena's demise.

Spreading my palms, I let the crystal containing my sister's soul hover between them.

An instant later, the soulstone vanished. Allari would know what to do with it.

"I owe you an apology," I told Kor'vas.

"You owe me nothing," she said.

"We both know that's not true," I persisted. "Because you were right. All that fighting, all those pointless battles…and yes, I was seeking death. But more than that, I was seeking escape."

"Velscar—"

"Vel'anath."

"What?"

"My name," I told her, looking out at the forest. "Velscar. 'The Scarred Vale.' I took that name when my home burned to the ground. I've carried those wounds and the memory of Lena for so long…but my happiest moments were spent as Vel'anath, 'The Soul of the Vale.'"

I looked back at Kor'vas, staring deep into her eyes.

"I never thought I would feel that way again," I said, trying to find the words. "But…when I'm with you, Kor'vas…"

"Kor'vas means 'Cursed,' I told you that," she said. "My parents named me Kalvia."

Without thinking, I stepped forward and kissed her. I was tired of thinking, tired of questioning everything I thought I had known.

All I wanted to do was feel.

Judging by her reaction, Kalvia felt the same, pressing her lips back against mine, tasting me with just as much desperation.

It was wonderful, this feeling of her body against mine.

It felt…pure.

This sensation, overwhelming in its intensity, all-encompassing in the sheer _need_ we had for each other…it was such a far cry from the bloody, violent hunger that had become so familiar.

This, at least, had to prove that we were still capable of hope, still capable of love.

When at last we separated, I leaned my head against hers, holding her tight.

"Kalvia," I whispered in her ear. "My Little Nightingale…"


	19. Spirits of the Raven

_Happy Memorial Day 2018 to all you readers out there! Thanks for sticking with this story; I know I haven't made it easy on you, taking my time like this! Today I give you a very special chapter that I thought be particularly appropriate._

 _Disclaimer: I do not own World of Warcraft, which is the property of Blizzard Entertainment. I make no monetary profit from this story, which is purely for entertainment purposes._

Chapter 19: Spirits of the Raven

Val'sharah was in peril.

Upon returning to the Grove of Cenarius, we learned that the Archdruid and his kin had succeeded in summoning Ysera to aid her afflicted son. This should have been happy news…except that Ysera was no longer a Dragon Aspect. Thus, the most the Archdruid could do was send his apprentice to the Temple of Elune to request additional aid from the High Priestess and the Conclave…who were in turn battling against a horde of demons eager to seize the Tears of Elune for themselves.

It was as we reached the Temple that we were greeted by none other than Tyrande Whisperwind…who gave us dire news.

The combined efforts of both Malfurion's druids and the priests of the Conclave had ultimately secured the Tears, but at a terrible price, and on more than one count. Ysera had become corrupted, and ultimately slain by the Temple's defenders.

The source of this corruption was identified by High Priestess Tyrande as the 'Emerald Nightmare.'

As if the loss of one of the great dragons—one who had been both an Aspect as well as the Mother of the Emerald Dream—wasn't enough, both Cenarius and the Archdruid had been taken by the Nightmare Lord himself, a demon that was all-too familiar to the kaldorei.

"Xavius…" I snarled, the name like poison in my mouth.

Every night elf knew the story of the War of the Ancients, and no demon was held in more infamy than Xavius, save perhaps the Betrayer himself. It was Xavius, along with Queen Azshara, who had instigated the Legion's very first invasion of Azeroth, thus triggering the chain of events that had led up to the Great Sundering.

He had ultimately been slain not once, but twice, by none other than Malfurion Stormrage.

"This is our fault," I muttered. "It seems my dearly-departed sister was just a distraction…all to lure us away from the main conflict. I'm sure the Legion would prefer to have these 'Forces of Nightmare' continue their assault uninterrupted."

"No matter," said Kalvia, cracking her knuckles. "We'll just go after Xavius and—"

"No," said the High Priestess. "Be assured that I do not blame you for your lateness. You are right; the Legion's presence was a distraction, to lure what may be our most powerful fighters away from the Nightmare. And that is why I request your aid once more. The Goddess has granted me a vision: that of a great, black tower atop a darkened hill. This matches a recent report by refugees from a small Gilnean village to the west. Bradensbrook, it is called."

"What does this have to do with a vision of a 'great, black tower'?" I asked.

The High Priestess looked me straight in the eye, ensuring I had her full attention.

"Overlooking Bradensbrook," she said, "is Black Rook Hold."

The High Priestess could not have shocked me more if she had physically struck me with her glaive. All kaldorei knew of Black Rook Hold…and more importantly, its master, Kur'talos Ravencrest. The lord of the ominous fortress had been a great hero in the War of the Ancients, leading the resistance against Azshara and her demons. To the Illidari, however, he held a special place of importance, as the former mentor to our own master.

"Black Rook Hold still stands?" asked Kalvia. "Even after all these years?"

"It does," said the High Priestess. "And it seems the fortress is not the only thing to have survived. Rumors have arisen from Bradensbrook of ghosts wandering the hills, of risen soldiers bearing the colors of Clan Ravencrest. I suspect some foul necromancy is involved."

"You suspect the Legion," I emphasized. "But even so, with the Archdruid captured…"

"We have all the forces we need to make an assault on the Nightmare," she replied, "but we cannot afford to fight a war on two fronts! I need you to investigate Black Rook Hold and put a stop to whatever is going on in there…or all of Val'sharah will be caught between both the Legion and the Nightmare."

Reluctantly, I nodded. The High Priestess was more than simply a worshipper of Elune; she was also a brilliant tactician. Her logic made sense, though I still felt guilty for allowing the Archdruid to be captured.

"Very well," I replied. "We shall ride out to Bradensbrook."

* * *

As soon as we reached the Gilnean village, we knew something was out of place.

Or rather, someone.

The villagers were all crowded around a much taller figure…one with pointed ears. It seemed we were not the only elves to arrive at the village seeking to help.

Unfortunately, it also seemed that the inhabitants of Bradensbrook had reason to be paranoid, if the rifles pointed at the visitor were any indication.

"Please," said the elf. "I am not your enemy. I am here to find someone in Black Rook Hold."

"Enough of your lies, elf," said the mayor. "You're staying where we can keep an eye on you."

I knew that if the villagers were going to distrust an elf on sight, then we demon hunters would be even more unwelcome. Sure enough, we had barely stepped foot into Bradensbrook when the villagers then turned their guns on us.

"Foul demons!" one shouted. "See what evil the elves have brought on us!"

"Hold your fire, damn it!" I yelled, hoping that they might at least recognize my commanding tone as carrying some authority.

"We're also here to investigate Black Rook Hold!" added Kalvia.

"Hmph!" grunted the mayor. "You look like elves, but then you also look like demons…I'd be explaining myself now, if I were you."

"We are demon _hunters_ ," I corrected. "And we serve one who has given up everything for the night elf race. We have no quarrel with the living."

At the sound of our title, the hooded figure suddenly stiffened. Still eying the rifles pointed at him, the elf slowly turned to face us, an expression of horror on his face. As he pulled down his hood, I realized why, for this was an elf that all kaldorei had learned to respect, regardless of the crimes of his sister.

"Captain Shadowsong!" I exclaimed, quickly putting a fist to my heart.

"It's…truly an honor, sir!" added Kalvia, doing the same.

"You know him?" asked the mayor suspiciously.

"Put your guns away, fools," I snarled. "This is Captain Jarod Shadowsong, a hero to the kaldorei if there ever was any."

"A mysterious elf, and then a couple of demon elves?" asked one of the villagers.

"I don't like it!" added another.

I was about to snap back, having had enough of the villagers and their paranoia, but any further attempt at argument was interrupted by a great explosion in the distance.

"Damn!" yelled the mayor. "They're back!"

'They' turned out to be a small army of hunched-over, shambling, clearly-undead elves, just as the High Priestess had said.

All of them were garbed in the colors of House Ravencrest.

As they came crawling over the villager's farmlands, the undead warriors began setting fire to crops, houses…anything they could get their hands on.

"We will talk later," said Captain Shadowsong. "For now, we must aid the people of Bradensbrook. That, at least, may earn their trust."

Nodding, I unsheathed my warglaives, vaulting over the wooden fence that surrounded the village and gliding down into the fields.

I decapitated one enemy as I landed, riding the headless body to the ground and rolling with the impact, before slicing up at the next and disemboweling him. Nearby, Captain Shadowsong let loose a valiant battle cry, stabbing into another undead soldier, before decapitating another, ducking under the clumsy swing of another, and then bisecting him along with two other opponents. He wrought absolute havoc on our enemies, cutting left and right with his great broadsword. Even with all the powers that Lord Illidan had granted me, I could not help but marvel at the captain's martial prowess. Captain Shadowsong's strength and leadership were both renowned throughout Kalimdor, and here I was seeing it in action.

Then a hideous, horrifying shriek rang through the air, and I quickly glanced up to see what appeared to be a flock of rotting, skeletal ravens.

"Bring those birds down!" I yelled, pointing to the sky.

Kalvia and I both unleashed a volley of felbolts as the undead birds swooped down at us. The people of Bradensbrook now put their rifles to use, each shot knocking an enemy out of the sky. Villagers they may have been, but every man and woman in the village proved to be an expert sharpshooter.

With the captain holding the ground forces at bay and the villagers providing anti-air fire, Kalvia and I split up to search the houses. The last thing we needed was people burning alive on top of the undead invasion.

"Is anyone in there?" I yelled, my words barely audible against the roaring flames.

The house was a raging inferno. Flames covered everything, from the stairs to the walls to the roof, which looked like it would give at any moment.

Once again I found that the powers of a demon came in handy as I channeled the inherent magic in my tattoos. My body began to glow a bright green, and I felt the power humming just beneath my skin as I strode through the fire. The flames licked at me with a furious intent to consume everything, but I barely felt the heat as my fel-infused blood boiled to the surface to shield me from harm. Focusing my spectral sight, I gazed all through the house, my demonic eyes piercing the flames and smoke that would have blinded anyone else.

There: upstairs, I could make out a tiny shape, about the size of a gnome.

No, not a gnome.

A child.

As that knowledge dawned on me, something clicked, deep inside. At that moment, I didn't care if she might think I was a demon. I didn't even care about gaining the villagers' trust.

All I cared about, at that very moment, was preventing that tiny, precious life from being devoured by the raging flames.

Leaping up toward the railing, I grabbed hold and vaulted over it, landing on the second floor. The girl stared at me in horror, but I paid her no mind, scooping up her tiny body and leaping out through the window, just as the entire house came crashing down around us in an explosion of fire and stonework.

As we fell, I forced my inner demon to slow our fall, and felt the familiar agony of two large, batlike wings tearing through my flesh to catch the wind. The girl had gone unconscious, and as I focused on her magical signature, I knew she didn't have much time left.

"Penelope!" shouted the mayor, running up to us. "What have you done—"

"Water!" I shouted. "She needs water!"

Nodding, the mayor quickly snatched the girl up and ran off to where another villager already had a bucket handy. Glancing around, I saw that the fields near Bradensbrook were strewn with bones and unidentifiable organs, along with dismembered corpses and rotting, feathered husks. The battle had been won…for now.

"Well done!" said Captain Shadowsong, clapping a hand on my shoulder. "You just saved the mayor's daughter."

"Along with our entire village!" said the mayor, walking back over to us. "I can't even begin to express our...my...gratitude. Please, you are most welcome here."

"I wish we could stay," said Kalvia, "but our business lies in that fortress on the hill."

"Those creatures will return," I added. "They will come for you again and again, unless we find the source of this insidious magic and put a stop to it."

"Then go with our blessing," said the mayor, "and know that the kaldorei will always be welcome in Bradensbrook."

* * *

"Now, what brings your kind out here?" asked Captain Shadowsong.

"I understand you have something of a history with our master…" I began.

"He tried to kill me," he replied flatly.

"Ten thousand years ago," Kalvia reminded him. "And if we're truly throwing blame around, shall we list the crimes your sister has committed…?"

"Very well," said the captain, cutting her off. "I strongly suspect we are here for the same reasons, anyway: Gul'dan and the Legion."

"He was here?" I asked in surprise. "The last time we saw him…"

"Was at the Vault of the Wardens, I suspect…with my sister chasing after him."

"You think she could be here?" asked Kalvia.

"If she is not, then the Legion most certainly is," he explained. "And they will have answers. I…understand you and my sister do not have the best track record, but…"

"She freed us," I told him. "Even if only out of necessity, I suppose it's fair to say we have called a truce…for now."

"Then let's be off," said the captain. "There is more than Maiev's disappearance that troubles me about this place…"

* * *

The reality of Black Rook Hold far exceeded its own reputation: the fortress itself was colossal, and the surrounding courtyard, graveyard, and barracks only added to the sheer size of the gigantic compound. In particular, the captain immediately made for a series of stone steps leading downward, which turned out to be the Ravencrest family crypts.

"It is just as I feared," he said, in a tone of both disbelief and sadness. "Lord Ravencrest's remains are gone. The resurrected elves wearing the colors of Black Rook Hold…there can be no mistake. The Burning Legion has resurrected Kur'talos Ravencrest. My former master lives again."

"There are no words to describe the disgracefulness of such an act," I growled. "Even for the Burning Legion."

"Indeed," replied the captain. "Lord Ravencrest…was many things to our people. A fearless leader, a seasoned commander, a man of integrity and honor, a teacher, and a protector of his people."

"You knew him," said Kalvia. "You were there, during the War of the Ancients."

"Aye," he replied. "Malfurion, Tyrande…and yes, even Illidan. We were all so young when Lord Ravencrest began to shape our destinies."

As Captain Shadowsong began to reminisce, I realized with a start that he—and our master, for that matter—could not have been much older than I or Kalvia during the War of the Ancients. These four elves—three of them regarded as the greatest heroes the kaldorei had ever known—had only just left adolescence when they were forced to fight for the fate of the world.

"When the War of the Ancients began," continued Captain Shadowsong, "Lord Ravencrest saved our people from utter annihilation. His loss was ultimately the greatest tragedy to befall our kind. We owe him…everything."

"Then let us put his spirit to rest," said Kalvia. "Not just for the sake of Val'sharah, but for Lord Ravencrest, as well."

"Aye," he replied. "But first we must find Maiev. We'll not be able to storm Black Rook Hold without her aid."

* * *

Finding a lone Warden in a fortress as expansive as Black Rook Hold turned out to be harder than it sounded. Even with both Kalvia and myself directing our spectral sights to investigate every corner of the dark, gloomy courtyard, there was no sign of life anywhere.

But there were plenty of spirits, and all of them acted under the will of the newly-risen Lord Ravencrest.

"This is getting us nowhere," I snarled, cleaving through the hundredth spirit to engage us in combat.

The wailing phantom dissolved into liquid-like mist the instant my glaives struck her. Taking advantage of the brief moment of respite, I focused my demonic gaze around the courtyard once more.

I could only marvel at the ruins of what must have been a truly great fortress, once upon a time. Now, the very spirits we fought had more business here than we did. The blackened, gnarled trees, the upturned stones, the dying grass...everything around us added to the feeling of being in a place that had long since forgotten how to die.

And yet, something shiny winked out at me from the darkness, on the other side of the courtyard. Bounding over toward the blacksmith, I realized with a start what it was.

A glaive.

Specifically, the glaive that had struck down Illidan Stormrage.

"This is Maiev's, alright," said Captain Shadowsong, seizing the weapon. "So, she was here. If she ran afoul of the Legion, they'll likely be using the hold's underground prison to hold her."

"How ironic," I muttered.

Frowning at me, Captain Shadowsong turned around and led the way back up the great stone stairs to the ramparts, trusting that we would follow.

* * *

This high up, overlooking the vast compound of Black Rook Hold, I allowed myself a moment of reverie. I wondered if Lord Illidan had ever stood here, as I did, pondering his position of leadership and what it meant for him, as I was. I wondered if he had ever had the same questions about what it meant to lead, or if he had always pushed on with the same single-minded, self-confident determination we had always known.

I couldn't help but contemplate the strange beauty of the place that had been the master's second home. In stark contrast to the Black Temple, which had been directly affected by demonic energies, Black Rook Hold was clearly an elven-made fortress. Had Lord Illidan ever felt at home here, before everything fell apart? Or had he been as focused on saving the world and stopping the Legion as always, to the point where he hadn't even bothered thinking about what home was?

Even now, ten thousand years later, everything from the stern ramparts to the darkened courtyard radiated an intimidating strength and authority unmatched by any other elven structure. I was struck by the sheer _history_ of it all. Here, in this fortress, the night elves had come together under the Ravencrest banner to fight for their home. Here had been of the greatest displays of leadership the kaldorei had ever known.

I hoped I could do as well.

The ramparts eventually led us toward the innermost part of the fortress, and a staircase that led down into the depths of the Hold.

At the bottom of the long, narrow shaft, we found a body.

"Arduen," said Kalvia, kneeling down.

Our fallen ally just barely managed to glance up, his fel-green eyes softening for a moment.

"Commander," he breathed. "We…almost made it out…"

"Rest easy, friend," I told him. "You have earned it."

Slowly lowering his head back to the ground, the demon hunter let out a final breath, and his expression became peaceful, like that of an elf's once more.

"He must have gotten word of the Legion presence here," said Kalvia. "There may be others."

"They probably came looking for more powerful souls for Allari's project," I muttered.

"Fine," said the captain. "We'll do what we can for your…people. Just find Maiev."

"If any survive down here, we're breaking them out," Kalvia assured him. "Your sister included."

Finding more of our captured brethren turned out to be easier than I thought…though that was partly because of the deranged mutterings and heavy breathing coming from one particular cell.

"Sirius!" I called. "Sirius, listen to me…"

"I'm sorry!" he shrieked, shaking uncontrollably. "My blood…is burning! _My blood is burning!_ "

"Sirius, listen to my voice!" yelled Kalvia, gripping the bars tightly. "You're going to get through this, do you hear me?"

The blood elf was even more pale than usual, and he shivered as if suffering from mana withdrawal.

But Sirius was a demon hunter, and I knew his malady was far worse than that.

"It burns…" he whimpered. "I can't…I can't…"

He let out a strangled cry, which in turn become a demonic roar tinged with fel energies. Horns sprouted from his forehead, and the flesh of his entire body tore itself apart as he grew several feet higher, massive wings spreading from his shoulders.

The demon bashed aside the bars of his cage with a single swipe, before bright green flames began pouring from his eyes, straight at us. We all leapt aside, not an easy feat in the prison's narrow corridor. But it was still three-on-one, and for all his uncontrollable power, the mutated Sirius swiftly fell beneath the relentless assault of our blades cutting into his flesh.

"I'm sorry, my friend…" I muttered.

"And you wonder why people treat demon hunters like a plague," said Captain Shadowsong, sheathing his sword.

"We all knew the price of following Illidan Stormrage," I retorted. "This is the path we chose, the path that allows us to destroy the demons who took everything from us. We have made our choices…as have you and your kin."

The next cell also held one of our brethren, but poor Cassiel had already succumbed to the demons' torture.

"Be at peace, brother," said Kalvia, making the sign of the moon.

As we approached the final cell, however, the bars exploded outward, and a familiar figure vaulted out into the hallway.

"Asha," I said. "Report."

Asha Ravensong quickly stood at attention, her fist thumping to her chest.

"Commander," she greeted. "Allari and I returned from Azsuna with the soul of a powerful demon in hand. Upon our return to the Fel Hammer, Allari received your 'gift' from Val'sharah. She, Belath, and Jace pooled their talents, and discovered the possibility of several more powerful demons in this area. With you and Kor'vas on the ground, Kayn dispatched us here, thinking we might meet up at some point. But upon our arrival, my team was completely torn apart—we underestimated the demons' strength. I've been conserving my energy until now, waiting to break free."

"The fortress above is crawling with the undead spirits of those serving Lord Ravencrest," I replied with a nod. "This entire place is ripe for a spell of necromancy to rival the Scourge of Lordaeron."

"Then we should be on our way," said Asha, readying her glaives.

"We should warn you," said Kalvia. "We seek to free Warden Maiev Shadowsong. But doing so will allow us to slay the Legion's commander within the hold and claim vengeance for our fallen brothers."

Though her face was obscured by the scrap of dark cloth, I could sense Asha's unease. None of us were particularly comfortable with freeing the one who had slain our master, even if she had freed us.

"We do what is necessary," she said after a moment's pause.

"Very well," said Captain Shadowsong. "Then let us waste no more time. We must find Maiev."

It turned out that the demons were cleverer than I'd thought. Most of the prison was in ruins, parts of it even flooded. However, a previously-sealed off section of the wall had given way, likely due to all the unstable magic being performed here. The half-flooded tunnel led further into the prison, where we found what appeared to have once been solitary confinement.

It was strange, seeing Maiev Shadowsong stripped of her armor and weapons. The elf who had slain our master looked ragged and weary, but just as bloodthirsty as ever. Her stark, white hair perfectly matched the wild, vicious look in her eyes. The scars and bruises, along with her torn clothing, still made the Warden look more like a wild animal than any kind of prisoner.

"Illidari," she spat. "Come to have a laugh at the irony of this situation?"

"Come to return the favor, more like," replied Kalvia.

"I'll admit, I am tempted to just leave you here," I snarled. "But as your brother explained, we're a bit short on numbers, and need all the fighters we can get to secure the fortress above."

I knew that we had gotten her attention as soon as I mentioned her brother. The moment Jarod stepped into view, Maiev's strong, vicious confidence melted away to reveal surprise, even something bordering on affection.

"Hello, Maiev," said the captain.

"Little brother," she replied, sounding almost guilty. "You came for me, even after I tried to—"

"That is in the past," he said. "I heard about what happened in the Vault of the Wardens. You just had to chase after Gul'dan all alone, didn't you?"

Without another word, Captain Shadowsong drew his sister's glaive and swung it. The razor-sharp blade, I realized with a start, glowed with the brilliant, beautiful aura of moonlight as it carved around the edges of Maiev's cell.

When his work was complete, Jarod Shadowsong stood and watched calmly as the metal framework of his sister's prison fell to the ground with a crash.

Striding over to where her armor was being kept, the warden wasted no time in gearing herself for battle.

"Before vanquishing any demons," she said, "We must put down that fool Stareye. He stands guard just outside this chamber, between us and the prison's entrance."

"Desdel Stareye?" exclaimed Captain Shadowsong. "He's alive?"

"As alive as any of those foul creatures," replied Maiev. "Ravencrest has him leading the ground forces, just as he did in life."

"Bah!" said her brother. "Stareye was never anything more than an arrogant popinjay. The damned fool had never fought a war in his life when he succeeded Ravencrest as commander."

"I suppose his soul won't be missed much, then," hinted Asha.

"Do whatever you like with that imbecile's spirit," said Maiev. "If you can inflict even a fraction of what he tried to put me through, I'll hand it over myself."

* * *

"Lord Ravencrest's army shall purge this land of you vile invaders!" proclaimed Desdel Stareye.

I snorted. Even Stareye's ghost was haughty and arrogant. I could see the elaborate embroidery of his robe, bedecked with priceless, star-shaped jewels all around the edges. This was the kind of kaldorei noble that had fallen so far into infamy after the War of the Ancients, his behavior hardly any different than that of the notorious Highborne.

That arrogance translated into Stareye's incompetence in battle as we rushed him en masse. The noble thrashed around clumsily with a beautifully-engraved sword, shouting obscenities and making vows of honor. For all his bluster, Stareye was just as inept in death as he was in life.

"You dare attack a kaldorei noble?" he sneered. "You will beg for mercy, which I will not give."

"You always were a pompous ass, Stareye," retorted Captain Shadowsong.

"Bah! Lord Ravencrest himself gave me this post!" said the undead noble. "I shall not surrender it to you, foul demon!"

"Demon?" exclaimed the captain. "Does he not recognize us?"

"No," replied Maiev. "He and the other undead cannot see us for what we truly are."

We all ducked as the priceless sword went swinging through the air, the noble's arms far too inexperienced for the heavy weapon to carry much speed. Leaping forward, we struck at him as one, and the disturbed spirit of Desdel Stareye fell to the ground.

Holding out another soul crystal, I muttered the incantation. The small, violet stone absorbed the noble's essence before it vanished, warping off to Allari at the Fel Hammer.

"As arrogant in death as he was in life," sniffed Maiev.

"I refuse to believe that Lord Ravencrest is working with Gul'dan!" said her brother.

"Knowing the Legion, they've employed far more sinister methods," said Kalvia. "Everything we've seen so far…it's like they've recreated the War of the Ancients."

"Which means that they've made Ravencrest their puppet," said Maiev.

"Then for the sake of his immortal soul," said Captain Jarod Shadowsong, "and for all kaldorei as well, we must storm Black Rook Hold…and face Lord Ravencrest himself."


	20. Ghosts of the Past

_Hey readers! Very sorry about the huge delay, but due to RL matters of a personal nature, I've had to take a vacation off sorts from writing. But now I'm getting back on that Felsaber, and breaking out the pen again, just in time for the Pre-Expansion Patch of Battle for Azeroth!_

 _Disclaimer: I do not own World of Warcraft, which is the property of Blizzard Entertainment. I make no monetary profit from this story, which is purely for entertainment purposes._

Chapter 20: Ghosts of the Past

"So that thing was made up of the lingering spirits of Lord Ravencrest's ancestors?" asked Kalvia, as we climbed the winding staircase that rose up out of the catacombs.

"Indeed," replied Captain Shadowsong. "Lord Etheldrin and Lady Velandras, of the ancient and noble Ravencrest line. Lord Ravencrest's heritage extends very far back, long before the War of the Ancients."

"It would seem that many of those laid to rest here have been recently disturbed," added his sister. "A result of the demons' presence, no doubt."

"I'm no sorcerer myself," admitted Kalvia, "but a display of necromancy on that scale would take a massive amount of power."

A sudden suspicion tugged at my mind, one I couldn't stop myself from expressing aloud.

"A massive amount of power…like a ritual used to separate a certain demon hunter's soul from his body?" I suggested.

Kalvia grew pale as my words registered. Even Maiev grew quiet as she considered my words.

"If it was here that Gul'dan performed the ritual to sever the Betrayer's link with his body," said the Warden, "then surely all of the Hold's former residents will have awakened. Archers, soldiers, scouts, sorcerers…an entire army undoubtedly waits between us and the fortress' master."

"All of whom once fought to defend our world from the Legion, ten thousand years ago," added her brother. "It is as much our duty as it is our mission to lay them to rest once more."

I stretched my muscles as I pondered this, grimacing at the ache that resulted. Ever since the fight with Lena back in Moonclaw Vale, I had begun to feel…weaker. My senses had begun to grow dull, my movements slower. More worrisome, my inner demon also felt as if it had grown feebler, less present. At first, I had thought that meant I had finally mastered it. Now I wasn't so sure.

It was as we entered the main hall that a half-solid arrow flew straight at me. I twisted to the side to avoid it, but just barely dodging the ghostly projectile. I grit my teeth as my muscles protested with the effort.

What was happening to me? Was all the necromantic energy in this place interfering with my powers, or was there something else going on here?

There was no time to think about that now, and I drew in a breath as I leapt forward, landing with a crash in the middle of the first ghostly battalion. My muscles ached with the maneuver, but I did my best to endure it, tried to focus on the pain and channel it into deadly, demonic fire.

It worked, to an extent: the bright, green flames burst into being around my warglaives, though the embers were smaller than usual. Still, they did their job, allowing my weapons to strike down the undead with ease.

Glancing over at Kalvia, I could see that she was having no such difficulty: her movements were swift as ever, and she held nothing back as she assaulted the ghostly sorcerers with deadly blasts of felfire.

Arcane blasts bounced off our wards as the undead sorcerers flung their spells everywhere. Blades flew threw the air as Maiev whirled around, sending a barrage of deadly knives into each foe. Ordinarily, these should have passed right through the apparitions, but my spectral sight informed me that the Warden's many weapons were enchanted with shadowy magics, which burned away at the incorporeal soldiers.

A sharp pain stabbed at my skull as my sight returned to normal…against my will. I shook my head again in frustration.

I knew I wouldn't be able to continue like this for long. We had to move, fast.

Black Rook Hold was somehow even gloomier on the inside. The main hall, once a chamber of both nobility and martial prowess, lay in ruins: the grand staircase at the far end of the room had utterly crumbled, and cobwebs covered everything from the weathered bookcases to the dust-covered tables. An overwhelming stench of dust and decay permeated the air. The only source of illumination came from the few pale candles scattered around the chamber. Whether it was because of the gloom, or whatever curse was affecting me, the fortress was dim even to my eyes.

As such, I had to squint to even make out the figure looking down at us from the balcony atop the ruined staircase. Though my senses were dulling, I could at least make out the stench of powerful Fel magics surrounding the figure. It had to be one of the demonic generals left behind by Gul'dan, for certain.

"We'll never be able to climb this rubble," remarked Captain Shadowsong. "We'd best take the side passage."

I ground my teeth at the feeling of weariness that continued to eat away at my muscles.

 _A real demon hunter would have no trouble scaling this,_ I thought bitterly. _All the better to engage their foe from the air_.

I immediately dismissed the thought. I _was_ a real demon hunter, and I would overcome whatever curse the Legion had placed on me! I would show the Legion what it truly meant to be afraid!

"Let's go, then," I growled, leading the way.

It was as we entered the side passage that would eventually lead to the platform above that I spotted something else glowing with Fel magics. As dulled as my senses were, I could still follow the lingering stench of demonic energy to an old, wooden desk…or more specifically, a collection of ragged, nearly-torn apart pages that lay haphazardly stacked atop the old, wooden desk.

Carefully picking up the first of these pages, I had to re-read the text to be sure that my sight truly was functioning properly.

 _I am Illysanna, daughter of the resistance commander Kur'talos Ravencrest. You should know by now that my father is dead. I am not the only one who has lost someone. Our great empire, our entire world, is burning before our eyes._

"Illysanna…" I breathed. "This must be her diary, written ten thousand years ago."

"How is it _you_ know the daughter of Lord Ravencrest?" Maiev asked in obvious suspicion.

Kalvia opened her mouth to respond, but I held up my hand to stop her.

"That knowledge you will learn for yourself in due time, Warden," I replied. "Especially if these pages chronicle Illysanna's entire life, as I suspect they do."

So saying, I continued to read aloud:

 _Nothing in this war with the Burning Legion has gone according to plan. Nothing. Every battle we win is followed by two defeats. Every demon we slay is replaced by ten more._

I thought of the vision that we demon hunters had shared, that scene of sheer hopelessness. An unstoppable army of demons slaughtering countless innocents on multiple worlds in an incalculable number of universes. During the War of the Ancients, only one elf had truly grasped just how infinite the Legion's forces were: Lord Illidan himself.

Had Illysanna begun seeing things as Illidan did, even before becoming a demon hunter?

 _Like my father, I was once so certain of victory. So overconfident. So foolish. Most resistance fighters still are. They hold tight to their archaic ways, unwilling to accept that we cannot best our enemy through conventional means. We are fighting something alien to this world, something born of nightmare._

 _There is one elf who understands this: Illidan Stormrage._

"Impossible!" spat Maiev. "The daughter of Lord Ravencrest would never—"

I interrupted her with the next few lines:

 _He knows that to defeat the demons, we must adapt. We must embrace extraordinary new tactics. If not, we will die. It is as simple as that._

"She didn't…" said the captain.

He turned to me, a look of horror and pleading in his eyes. He wanted me to deny what he and his sister suspected to be true.

"You asked how we know Illysanna," said Kalvia. "She is one of us."

With a shout of rage, Maiev threw herself at me, clearly intent on murdering the evil spawn of Illidan right then and there. She might have succeeded, too—I knew that infamous Umbra Crescent had very nearly slaughtered Vandel when the two had fought. But Maiev never got the chance to use it, on account of her brother restraining her and Kalvia leaping in front of me.

"What did you do to her?" yelled the Warden, her voice filled with a murderous rage.

The captain looked only slightly less furious, though he was in far better control of his emotions.

"These pages do not lie!" I shot back, waving them in the air for emphasis. "Illysanna chose her path, as did we all. Illidan showed us the truth about the Legion and offered us the chance to defeat them for good. Think! How many times has the Legion returned? Even after the War of the Ancients? Even after the Battle of Mount Hyjal? Time and again, your lands were invaded! Time and again, you lost countless members of _our_ race to the demons' madness. Time after time, battle after battle, innocents have been slaughtered, kingdoms depleted of their people, while the demons have returned, regenerated, and been reborn. _That_ is the reality that Illidan saw _ten-thousand years ago_ , a reality that Illysanna was quick to recognize!"

Without waiting for either of them to reply, I resumed reading:

 _Perhaps you consider Illidan an arrogant sorcerer, or even a menace to our way of life._

Maiev's enraged growl indicated that that was exactly how she felt.

 _I once did, but my opinions have changed. I am writing to explain why, and to chronicle what I have learned of Illidan. Despite his dangerous reputation, I believe he is our only chance of surviving the days ahead._

By now, Maiev was no longer trying to murder me on the spot, though her stance still indicated that she would strike at the tiniest provocation. Her brother looked far more curious, though still very much suspicious of anything concerning the Betrayer.

Still, both seemed willing to listen to the recollections of Lord Ravencrest's daughter:

 _I first met Illidan during the early stages of the war, back when I considered the Burning Legion a passing threat. The night elf resistance was headquartered at my family's ancestral home, the great fortress of Black Rook Hold. Those days were glorious to behold. Thousands of elves gathered at the stronghold from the far ends of the empire, all sworn to defend our lands against the demons._

 _As the daughter of Commander Ravencrest, I enjoyed a position of power and privilege. I attended council meetings with sorcerers from the Moon Guard, priestesses from the Sisterhood of Elune, and other influential figures. I also crossed paths with lesser-known resistance members—elves like Illidan._

 _Illidan came to Black Rook Hold with his brother, the druid Malfurion Stormrage, and the priestess Tyrande Whisperwind. I met the trio only briefly, and they did not leave any lasting impressions on me. Illidan in particular seemed like just one more sorcerer among the hundreds who had joined the resistance._

 _Yet soon, everyone would know his name. And some, like me, would come to distrust him._

 _Though in hindsight, I should have admired Illidan from the beginning. After all, he saved my father's life._

 _It happened during a mission that my father took into the wilds beyond Black Rook Hold. I was not there to witness it, but it was reported that one of the Legion's ravenous felhunter demons attacked and disarmed my father. The beast would have devoured him if Illidan had not intervened. With his quick thinking and mastery of the arcane, the Stormrage twin defeated the demon and spared my father a grim end._

 _Rather than downplay this event, my father celebrated it. He named Illidan his personal sorcerer, and young Illidan Stormrage became the talk of the resistance. Moon Guard members clamored for an audience with him to discuss his thoughts on the war, the nature of demons, and the arcane arts. Before long, Illidan had gained a reputation as a sorcerer without equal._

 _From that day forward, Illidan fought by my father's side in battle. I watched him like a storm crow, determined to learn more about this strange new member of my family's inner circle._

 _What I discovered did not put my heart at ease. Far from it._

"So Illysanna distrusted Illidan from the beginning," remarked Captain Shadowsong. "What changed?"

"The Betrayer ensnared her with his false promises of power, no doubt," sniffed Maiev.

The captain did not dispute his sister's claim, but neither did he offer any opinions of his own. I could tell that he was still interested in what the late-Illysanna had to say.

 _We are all driven by something. Revenge. Hope. Love. Hate. Illidan was no different. Resentment and bitterness churned in his heart, fueling his every thought and action._

 _The resentment came because he felt inferior to Malfurion, whose deeds always overshadowed his own. One example of this occurred back when the Stormrage brothers were both studying Druidism. Illidan had already learned the ways of Arcane sorcery, but he desired to master the arts of Druidism, as well. Such was not to be his fate, however. Whereas Malfurion succeeded at wielding Nature Magic, Illidan failed._

 _The bitterness stemmed from Illidan's love for Tyrande Whisperwind. He adored the priestess, but she did not reciprocate his feelings. I think he also feared that Malfurion would inevitably win her heart._

 _Over time, he became obsessed with destroying the Legion, and he criticized any ally whom he saw as incompetent. He directed most of his ire at Latosius, the elderly commander of the Moon Guard. To Illidan, Latosius symbolized everything that was wrong with the resistance. The old elf was stubborn, unimaginative, and timid. His ineffective tactics wasted the sorcerers' talents. More than once, Illidan claimed that he could do a better job of leading the Moon Guard._

 _When Latosius fell in battle to the Legion, Illidan would have a chance to make good on that claim._

 _Though I distrusted Illidan, my father did not. He appointed the young sorcerer as the Moon Guard's commander. Immediately, Illidan set to work reforging the order. He pushed the sorcerers to their limits and developed new methods of wielding Arcane magic._

 _The most controversial of these methods involved Illidan channeling the other sorcerers' powers through himself. This granted him incredible arcane might, and he used it to annihilate scores of demons. Yet there was a price. The sorcerers who gave their power to Illidan were left defenseless in battle. Many succumbed to the Legion's fel-tainted blades. Illidan never apologized for these deaths. He saw them as a necessary sacrifice._

 _As the days and weeks passed, Illidan's mood darkened, though I am not sure why. I believe something had changed in his relationship with Malfurion and Tyrande. Whenever I mentioned his ill humor, Illidan would talk about a different subject, or he would simply glare at me and say nothing._

 _Some elves admired Illidan. After all, he was hurting the demons. Making them suffer. Under his command, the Moon Guard had become one of the resistance's most powerful weapons. Yet my father grew concerned about Illidan's recklessness, and he questioned his decision to make Illidan the leader of the Moon Guard._

 _Perhaps my father could have stopped Illidan's rash behavior, but he never had the opportunity. A Legion agent assassinated my father, and his death threw the resistance into turmoil and uncertainty._

 _What I felt after my father's passing is not for you to know. That pain is mine to keep. Mine to use. But I will say that my views changed. My hubris crumbled away. I questioned everything and everyone. I searched for a way to strike back at the Legion, for a weapon to make the demons suffer as much as I had._

 _And in that searching, I realized that Illidan had been right all along. Though he was cold and arrogant, he had been effective. He understood that to defeat the demons, we must make sacrifices. We must forego our fear and apprehension, and embrace the unknown._

 _In the wake of my father's death, Illidan disappeared. Rumors spread concerning his whereabouts. Some elves claimed he had died. Others said he had abandoned the resistance and joined the demons. Do not believe these lies. Illidan is still on our side. He is working from the shadows to uncover the Legion's weaknesses. No matter how questionable his methods may be, they are necessary._

 _I go now to find him, to walk in his footsteps and learn what I can about our enemy. Where this path will lead, I do not know. But I will do whatever I must to avenge my father and save our race from extinction._

 _If you wish to do the same, come find me._

 _-Illysanna Ravencrest_

"Hmph! Is that all?" asked Maiev.

"Yes," I replied shortly. "That is all."

"Let us be on our way, then," demanded the Warden. "Lord Ravencrest's spirit must be laid to rest."

And that was it. She wasn't even going to acknowledge Illysanna's words, let alone her—our—way of thinking. I frowned as I considered Maiev's reaction, and realized it fit perfectly with what I knew of her usual behavior. The Warden was nearly as opposed to emotion as the Master himself. Whatever she was feeling, Maiev chose to internalize it, as she always did.

As we climbed the stairs, I couldn't help but think once more of Illysanna, and how it had been my fault she'd died that day in the fel-scarred valleys of Suramar. If I had been a second quicker, if I could have gotten to Illysanna before that damned fel cannon had sent her flying off the ledge…

But as we reached the top of the stairs and arrived at the balcony, all guilt vanished.

For before us stood none other than Illysanna Ravencrest.

She didn't look pleased to see us; on the contrary, Illysanna no longer wore the form of a night elf. Her tattoos had spread further to cover her entire upper body, causing the once-violet skin to glow a bright green. Gigantic, batlike wings spread from her shoulders, and enormous horns twisted out from her skull.

"Illysanna?" I asked in shock.

" _This_ is Illysanna Ravencrest?" exclaimed Captain Shadowsong. "By Elune, what's happened to her?"

"She's lost control," said Kalvia. "On one of our missions…we thought she'd died…"

"I will bury you here, fools!" yelled our former ally, springing forward.

"Move!" yelled Maiev, blinking out of the way.

The rest of us followed suit, dodging or rolling out of the range of Illysanna's deadly glaives.

"You cannot escape, demons!" she shrieked. "I shall slaughter you all and avenge my father!"

"Demons?" asked the captain. "She must have been afflicted with the same delusion that plagues the other members of the Hold!"

"All the worse for her," remarked Maiev, swinging her weapon at Illysanna.

As much as I hated it, I had to agree with the Warden in this instance. There was nothing I wanted more than to welcome Illysanna back into the Illidari, but I recognized when a fellow demon hunter needed to be put down.

That didn't make it any easier.

As if in response to this resolve, I felt some of my strength begin to return. Not enough to take on Illysanna alone, but certainly enough to hold my own. The daughter of Ravencrest had raised her glaives to parry Maiev's attack before blocking a blow from the captain. Kalvia and I then rushed in to slash away at her sides, scoring deep gashes from which bright, green blood began to flow.

Hissing and shrieking like one of the felbats that we demon hunters so resemble, Illysanna leapt up into the air…and came crashing down once more on top of all of us. I grit my teeth, willing my demonic powers to protect me. It took more effort than usual, but a translucent green shield gradually formed around my body, called into being by my tattoos.

And not a moment too soon, for Illysanna's glaives crashed into the shield mere moments after it had formed. The barrier fissured slightly, but it held, allowing me to counter her assault with my own. Even so, Illysanna's demonic form gave her increased speed and strength, allowing her to dance around the room as she parried and dodged around my glaives, Kalvia's projectiles, Maiev's blades, and the captain's sword.

"The hunt is eternal…" growled the fallen demon hunter.

Illysanna flew through the air to grab onto the side of one of the great marble columns lining the chamber. Seeing her eyes glitter with fel energy, and taking note of her stance, I knew what was coming next.

"Move!" I yelled.

Sure enough, Illysanna flew through the air once more in a deadly pounce. Bright green flames erupted from the ground where she landed, turning the once-beautiful stonework into a deadly pit of demonic fire.

Kicking off the nearby wall, I flew straight at her, turning my own leap into a counterattack. Kalvia did the same as Maiev leapt at Illysanna from behind.

The daughter of Ravencrest parried both our attacks, but this left her open to the Warden's Umbra Crescent. Illysanna roared in pain as Maiev's weapon bit deep into her spine. She twisted around and grabbed at her attacker, but the Warden vanished just as quickly. Once again, this left Illysanna open, and Kalvia and I both seared her flesh with twin blasts of felfire that poured from our eyes.

Any weariness I had once felt was now long gone. I reveled in the dark joy of channeling my demonic energies. Something inside me genuinely enjoyed such relentless, bloodthirsty combat.

It was only with a great effort that I stopped my assault as Illysanna fell to her knees. Another wave of exhaustion spread over me as my fel energies faded once more, and I very nearly fell to the ground myself.

"Velscar, look out!"

I barely had time to hear Kalvia's cry before Illysanna leapt at me once more. I cursed myself for my own weakness; it had been a feint, one that I had fallen for out of sympathy for a former ally.

I now paid for it as I felt myself being thrown to the ground. It was now I who yelled out in pain as two deadly glaives sliced through my flesh.

The weight lifted as suddenly as it had come, and I looked up to see Illysanna hovering in the air once more.

"I will burn you alive!" she roared.

Sure enough, a great blast of felfire erupted from her eye sockets, burning everything it touched. I barely got out of the way before the blast melted the column behind me into a pool of slag.

"No more!" I roared. "Your war is at an end!"

Something inside me had once again snapped in response to the injuries that Illysanna had given me. I felt the fel energies begin to flow, enhancing my attacks and propelling me through the air toward my fallen comrade. I flew straight at her, glaives first…and impaled Illysanna Ravencrest in the abdomen with both weapons.

The assault ended immediately as Illysanna's body jerked in response to the fatal blow.

"Now…I see," she whispered, emerald tears cascading down her face. "Betrayed…"

My former ally tried to say something else, but instead began choking on her own blood. As she coughed up the foul, burning green ichor, I felt some of it splash upon my face. With a snarl, I tore my glaives free, and sent the demonic corpse of Illysanna Ravencrest falling to the ground below.

Still several more staircases, hallways, galleries, and armories lay between us and the fortress' highest chamber. Every chamber was covered in cobwebs and dust, and all of them contained a variety of demons eager to slaughter any mortal who crossed their path. There was no longer any doubt that the Legion was behind this.

After what must have been several hours, we finally reached the topmost chamber.

It was there that I beheld one of the greatest heroes of our race.

Lord Kur'talos Ravencrest physically resembled his house's namesake. His avian features and trimmed black hair matched his dark, plated armor, which in turn was bedecked with ebony feathers. Here was a true warrior, wielding a sword to match his martial prowess: a massive blade extending from a golden hilt carved to resemble a dragon's head.

At once the exhaustion seeped back into my bones, and I began to feel weary once more. Even after such a long climb, I should have been ready for battle. But as I stared at the great Kur'talos Ravencrest, it was if the night elf commander's very presence weakened the presence of all who were considered his enemies.

Captain Shadowsong was the first to speak, stepping forward cautiously to greet his mentor.

"My Lord Ravencrest—"

"Fiends!" shouted the commander, brandishing his sword and charging forward. "You shall never have our world!"

Maiev was the first to recover, and she swiftly leapt forward to defend her brother from the opening assault.

"It's no good!" she replied. "We must send him back to his rest, as we intended!"

Kalvia and I quickly complied, with the captain reluctantly drawing his own blade.

Even against four highly-trained fighters, Lord Kur'talos Ravencrest was truly a battle-hardened warrior. Here was the kind of fighter of which legends were made. Despite having been dead for ten-thousand years, the commander fought with the skill of ten nightsabers. Even his armor showed little sign of rusting. The master of Black Rook Hold stood firm against our barrage of attacks—many of which failed to penetrate his armor—and swung his massive blade around in a wide arc, forcing us on the defensive. As he did so, Ravencrest also drew a handful of smaller blades, which he tossed at us.

"Latosius!" he called. "Aid me!"

"Latosius?" exclaimed Captain Shadowsong. "The leader of the Moon Guard has also been resurrected?"

Sure enough, a stern-looking older elf teleported into view just behind Ravencrest, where he floated in midair. Glowing with a sinister, violet aura, Latosius glared down at us, before clapping his hands together.

"Burn away!" he commanded.

"Move!" I yelled.

Sure enough, the gathering energies playing about the sorcerer were now unleashed in a massive, shadowy blast.

Shadowy?

As we scattered to avoid the sorcerer's attack, I studied him once more, tried to focus my anger into triggering my spectral sight.

It worked, but just barely—I could make out the faintest stench of corrupting magics playing about Latosius' figure.

More importantly, there was no trace of Arcane magic. Instead, I could make out the silhouetted outline of what appeared to be a pair of long, curved horns.

Kalvia likely saw the same thing, for she soon exclaimed, "That's not Latosius! A demon wears his face! The Legion has been manipulating Lord Ravencrest all along!"

Even as we bore witness to this revelation, Ravencrest's smaller weapons continued to soar and ricochet around the chamber. Yet the resistance commander was less experienced with these weapons, and so they were more easily dodged. Maiev, however, knew full well how to handle throwing weapons, and so blinked around the chamber as she collected them mid-flight.

Whirling around, she then sent each of the small-but-deadly blades back at their master.

For all their past differences, the Shadowsong siblings now worked in perfect harmony as the captain charged at Ravencrest and locked blades with his old mentor, while Kalvia and I assaulted his sides. Again Ravencrest braced himself against our attacks, keeping his full attention on the melee fighters…just as we intended.

True to her status as a Warden, Maiev's aim was flawless, and the small, curved blades arced around through the air to dig into the small, almost unnoticeable gaps in Ravencrest's armor, beneath his arms and near his neck.

Being undead granted Ravencrest an increased resistance to pain, but Maiev's attack did distract him long enough for her brother to penetrate the commander's defenses. Knocking the massive blade aside, the captain drove his own weapon deep into Ravencrest's abdomen.

"Latosius…" he groaned. "Avenge me…"

"Enough!" growled 'Latosius.' "I tire of this!"

Teleporting down next to Ravencrest, the older elf fixed his arrogant gaze on the master of Black Rook Hold. Stretching forth a gnarled hand, the sorcerer began channeling magic that I instantly recognized as that wielded by warlocks—the sort used to drain away the soul of a living being.

"You worthless husk," snarled the elf. "Ten thousand years have not been kind."

Then, 'Latosius' turned to face us, and his robes shredded into fragments as his muscles expanded. Gigantic, batlike wings spread apart triumphantly, and long, curved horns sprouted from his now-bald skull. Two cloven hoofs landed on the ground with a crash as the dreadlord finally revealed himself.

"Tremble in fear, mortals," he rumbled. "For I am Dantalionax, and I claim Black Rook Hold in the name of the Burning Legion! And as for you…"

Behind him, the once-again lifeless corpse of Lord Kur'talos Ravencrest tumbled to the ground, the spell of necromancy having run its course.

However, from the empty husk rose a transparent figure of the exact same height and build.

"What is this? Where am I?" asked the spirit of Lord Ravencrest.

Suddenly, comprehension dawned on his spectral face.

"My ancestors!" he cried. "Illysanna…forgive me…"

Turning toward us, the lingering spirit raised one ghostly fist into the air, and pointed down at us.

"Heroes!" he proclaimed. "You must defeat him!"

Dantalionax let out an evil cackle, and I almost welcomed the familiar sound of crackling, volcanic fire.

"You expect these worthless mortals to defy the Legion?" he scoffed, stomping toward us.

"Souls of the House Ravencrest!" commanded Lord Ravencrest. "Rally to me, that we may aid our champions!"

"Bah!" snarled the dreadlord. "There is nothing you can—"

He broke off abruptly as a barrage of blue, glowing wisps sailed through the air to answer Lord Ravencrest's call. Coalescing into a translucent, brilliant blue whirlwind, they spun around us, once, twice…several times, until we were all caught up in the ghostly, blue maelstrom.

I felt…strength. Power. It filled me with fresh determination and resolve. Glancing around at the others, I knew they also felt it: the last gift bestowed by the noble House Ravencrest.

When the spectacle ended, Dantalionax remained standing there, but it was clear that he could sense our newfound strength. The dreadlord actually appeared slightly less confident.

But only slightly.

"You cannot comprehend that which you face, mortals!" he roared.

Lifting a single, clawed hand, Dantalionax sent a hail of shadowy bolts flying at us. Kalvia and I twisted around to avoid these, while Maiev blinked toward the dreadlord, followed closely by her brother, who charged at the demon blade-first.

We demon hunters also leapt forward, glaives at the ready, and all four fighters began slashing and hacking at the great demon.

"Sleep, now…" he purred.

In response, a cloud of suffocating green smoke descended from above, but again we rolled out of the way. Kalvia pounded the ground, and a ring of Fel spread across the floor, burning the ground at the dreadlord's feet.

Leaping upward, I swung down at Dantalionax from the air…only to have him catch my glaive with one hand. As I hung there, caught in the dreadlord's grasp, his demon's fiery, hate-filled eyes stared deep into mine. I couldn't look away, paralyzed as I was by the infernal gaze. A look that was both puzzled and amused spread over his face as Dantalionax stared deep into my soul.

"What have you done to yourself?" he asked. "You're more night elf than demon."

The remark, so like that of the druid's, caught me off-guard.

"What do you mean?" I demanded.

"You have forgotten what you are," said the dreadlord. "You—"

He broke off with a roar of pain as Captain Shadowsong's blade cut deep into an armored thigh, and Maiev leapt up to slice through the demon's leathery wings.

I felt myself fall to the ground, where I added to this assault with blows of my own.

"Pathetic mortals!" ranted Dantalionax. "See the true power that I command!"

With a snarl, I swung at the dreadlord again, but this time my glaive hit nothing but air.

All around me, I could sense magic being wielded…on all sides of the room.

Recalling the magic that the dreadlord had wielded as Latosius, I immediately knew what was to come.

"Move!" I yelled.

Kalvia was just as quick to pick up on this, and immediately sprang to the wall. Though they did not possess our heightened senses, both the Shadowsong siblings also recognized the taint of shadowy magics being worked, and backed away from the center of the room just in time.

A massive blast of corrupting energy incinerated the floor in a long line, leaving a blackened path of ashes in its wake.

Then came another blast, followed by another, and another. The barrage of evil magics continued without end, forcing us to stay in motion.

Finally, after what seemed like an endless assault, the dreadlord appeared once again. The same puzzled look adorned his face as he looked down at me.

"I'm impressed," he remarked. "I shouldn't have thought you able to evade that in your present condition."

"No more mind games, demon!" I snarled, leaping forward.

A shadowy aura enshrouded Dantalionax, and he turned around to block my attack with his wings, which had suddenly hardened. He sent out a wave of shadowy energy, forcing the others back, before then turning back around.

But I was no longer there.

Instead, I now dropped down on the dreadlord from above. I called on the fel energies inside me to come forth, to transform me into a demon…but they never came. My powers were weakening once more. I had to push myself to the brink to even empower my warglaives. Gritting my teeth, I renewed my assault, slashing away at the dreadlord relentlessly, mercilessly. My glaives cut through his armor, his wings, his flesh….and finally, his heart.

"Most…impressive," panted the dreadlord. "But…your strength will deplete itself…in time…and I will return…"

As Dantalionax faded away and his ornate armor crashed to the ground, the spirit of Lord Kur'talos Ravencrest appeared once again.

"I have no doubt you _will_ return, demon," he spat. "I will count on it. But whenever you come, we will meet you. And we _will_ defend our world!"

Turning toward the rest of us, Lord Ravencrest now fixed his eyes on Maiev's brother.

"Captain Shadowsong!" he barked.

"My lord!" replied the captain, saluting immediately.

"Take up my blade, captain," said Ravencrest.

Captain Shadowsong immediately broke his stance as the weight of the command fully registered with him.

"But…my lord…" he protested.

"Take up my blade, Captain Jarod Shadowsong," commanded Lord Ravencrest, "and let all who live know that you carry Ravencrest's Legacy with you. Go forth with pride, and know that we of the Ravencrest line are now at peace, safe in the knowledge that heroes like you still defend our world."

"And as for you two," he said, turning toward myself and Kalvia. "I sense the mark of another pupil upon you both."

"Yes, my lord," said Kalvia. "Much has happened since Illidan first left your service. But know that his desire to defend Azeroth against all threats remains unchanged."

Ignoring Maiev's snort of contempt, I also stepped forward.

"We share Lord Illidan's love of this land," I added. "Of this world. We will do whatever it takes to fulfill that shared goal."

"It is not for me to say whether your path is the right one," replied Lord Ravencrest. "For I see now that much has happened since my death. Much has happened to challenge the perceptions that we once held as law. I can only advise that you remain true to the path you have chosen. On this, you cannot waver."

As the last leader of the noble House Ravencrest finally went to his much-deserved rest, I felt myself frown at his words…his and the dreadlord's.

Then the unexplainable exhaustion set in once more, and I couldn't help but wonder if maybe, just maybe, Lord Illidan had erred in making me his successor.


	21. The Demon Within

_Disclaimer: I do not own the World of Warcraft, which is the property of Blizzard Entertainment. I make no monetary profit from this story, which is exclusively for entertainment purposes._

Chapter 21: The Demon Within

Cold metal slammed into my body as I hit the floor of the Fel Hammer. Every muscle in my body ached. I had to fight just to breathe. I hated to admit it, but I knew that any power I had once wielded was all but gone.

"That pit lord took more out of you than expected, huh?" remarked Allari.

"Just…take the damned crystal," I muttered, throwing the soul shard at her.

"You need help," said Kalvia, in a tone that left no room for argument.

"I'm… _fine_ ," I coughed. "It was just…I can—"

"You can sit down and allow me to tend to you…as my original self once did."

Struggling to my feet, I glared at the Shade as it hobbled toward me. Though it led the Ashtongue with as much confidence and authority as Akama—if not more—I did not trust the thing. Physically, the apparition appeared to simply be Akama shrouded in darkness…but given the circumstances of its creation, I knew it was capable of so much more.

"You have need of my skills," it persisted.

"I have no need of—"

"Your aura is damaged."

"My _what?_ "

The Shade of Akama was sinister enough on its own, but its stern frown now unnerved me more than anything else. For the expression wasn't so much a glare as it was the kind of look a concerned parent might give a stubborn child.

"Your soul is in conflict," it explained. "You forget that like Akama, I too walk the path of the shaman."

"Look," I said evenly. "I've recently felt…yes, a little weaker, but whatever the Legion's done to me—"

"If my suspicions prove true, the Burning Legion has done nothing to you," croaked the Shade. "You will let me examine you. _Now_."

"Or what?" I growled.

"Or you leave the future of the Illidari in uncertainty," it replied simply.

I ground my teeth in frustration. The unspoken threat was clear: by refusing the Shade's assistance, I was only dishonoring my brethren.

"Lord Illidan would not tax himself so."

 _On the contrary_ , I thought. _That is exactly what Lord Illidan did._

In the days leading up to the fall of the Black Temple, rumors had circulated claiming that the master had ventured out to the forgotten necropolis of Auchindoun…with only a meager force of bodyguards for protection. As the most powerful demon in all of Outland, none of us doubted his ability to handle whatever evil awaited him in the dead city. But Lord Illidan had come back drained, almost a living corpse himself. The undead had gotten the best of him a second time, and his entire army had suffered for it.

"Fine," I muttered. "What do you suggest?"

Beckoning me to follow, the Shade strolled away, down the ramps leading to the lowest levels of our base, where the Ashtongue toiled away on various projects. There, it indicated a ragged carpet of sorts that had been laid out.

"Not the most comfortable bed, of sorts," I remarked. "You expect me to take a nap?"

"Yes," it replied, without any humor whatsoever.

"Then you know what's wrong with him?" asked Kalvia.

"I have my suspicions," replied the Shade.

"Then speak plainly," I ordered.

"Very well," it said. "If what I suspect proves true, 'commander,' your affliction is not the fault of the Legion, but your own. You cannot draw on your powers because you do not wish to. You have been suppressing your own demon."

It was clear that the Shade meant every word. Even so, my first instinct was to laugh at the absurdity of such a claim. But as I opened my mouth to do so, something gave me pause. Ever since the fight with Lena, I had been feeling…weaker. Was it even remotely possible, what Akama's Shade was suggesting?

"Explain," I finally said.

"Name," it replied.

"What?"

"Your name."

"Vel—"

I broke off mid-reply, and that scared me.

The Shade nodded, clearly satisfied.

"Velanath. Velscar. You do not even know your own name," it replied.

"What the fel does it matter what I call myself?" I snarled.

"You stupid, foolish elf," scolded the Shade. "You think that names do not have power? On my home world, the orcs first received the blood of Mannoroth at the Throne of Kil'jaeden. Shadowmoon Valley remains dominated by the fel volcano known as the Hand of Gul'dan. Both places are so named for a reason, for by such titles is the land permanently tainted by its ties to the Burning Legion."

"What does this have to do with Velscar?" asked Kalvia.

"My name is Vela—"

I quickly cut myself off. The sudden impulse to correct her…where had that come from?

"You see? He does not even know who he is," said the Shade.

"Well, what about Kalvia?" I asked. "She told me her birth name."

"I told you what my parents named me, you stupid taffer!" she shot back. "That doesn't mean I actually wanted to _be_ that person again!"

"Oh, so you were just being kind," I snarled sarcastically.

"Of course I was! By the fel, you really took our little trip to heart, didn't you? What, did meeting your sister suddenly make you wish you were a normal elf again? You know how demons react to that kind of magic! You might as well have beaten yourself into a coma!"

"This is insane," I growled. "All of this. It's all based on nothing more than the ramblings of a senile old broken—"

"Lie down, 'commander,'" ordered the Shade, "or I shall have Kor'vas restrain you."

"And then what?" I demanded.

"I am going to perform a ritual similar to that which first drew me out of Akama…but in reverse. Rather than drawing your demon _out_ , I am sending you _in_. You will enter a deep sleep, by which your mind will fold in on itself, allowing you to enter the darkest recesses of your own soul, where your inner demon dwells."

"And the risks?" I asked.

"Upon awakening, your other half may devour you whole, gain control of your body, and run amok through the Fel Hammer like a crazed initiate until it's put down," replied the Shade monotonously. "But such are the risks that come with our lot."

"This—all of this—is ridiculous," I muttered, lying down. "The Legion has you chasing some imaginary affliction—"

That was all I got out before the Shade began chanting in a bizarre, harsh tongue. The words were dark and savage, and I immediately recognized the language as that of the demons: Eredun.

The world went dark.

* * *

When the shadows finally melted away, multiple sensations bombarded me all at once. The feeling of grass and dirt beneath my feet. The calm wind against my skin. The sounds of birds in the trees. Green and brown everywhere. It all felt strangely familiar.

Glancing around at the gigantic, conical trees, I realized why.

And with that revelation came a sharp stab of terror as I also realized what would happen next.

Sure enough, the blue skies twisted and became the color of plague. Foul meteors rained down from the heavens, gathering into rocky, uneven forms that stood on two monstrous legs. The singing of the birds was immediately cut off by a shrill howling as several lupine forms raced through the woodlands in search of prey.

As the forest burned all around me, my field of vision immediately changed to a small village in the center of the mountains. The rocky hills were painted a sickly yellow-green. The grass burned away, becoming blackened before then giving way to a fel-blasted wasteland. Buildings burned or were smashed altogether as an army of vicious abominations wrought chaos everywhere. Man, woman, or child, it did not matter: every elf within the village was slaughtered, butchered, had his limbs cleaved off or her skull bashed in. Some were simply burned alive, their dying shrieks adding to the unending, relentless carnage as the demons carried out their Burning Crusade.

"No," I protested. "No…I can't watch this…not again…"

 _Why not? You've seen it once, twice…a thousand times already. You've seen countless worlds burned, an infinite amount of lives extinguished. Are you so pathetic, so weak-willed, that this one tiny village holds any meaning for you?_

An insane fury washed over me from all sides. Out of instinct, my arms flew up to cover my eyes.

Eyes that were not there.

 _You saw this happen. You saw everything. And like all the others, it proved too much. Now you see so much more. And you wished to throw it all away…for_ them _?_

I forced myself to look at the mutilated forms strewn across the ground, not memorizing but rather recalling this scene.

"Show yourself," I spat. "Velscar."

Upon my command, the grass burned away. The buildings vanished. The entire forest evaporated, replaced by a rounded, metal arena not unlike the one in the Fel Hammer.

 _All just a trick of your—sorry,_ our _—mind. Something to give us context while we sort out our little problem._

A great, fiery portal opened up before me, and out of it stepped my self.

It was like looking in a mirror: I knew the features intimately, even the demonic ones. The claws, the scales, the tattoos…all were as much a part of me as any other part of my body.

"No," growled Velscar, his words laced with fel energy. "These are _my_ features, little Velanath. You are nothing more than a _weak, pitiful, kaldorei_."

Glowing with emerald flames, he charged straight at me, warglaives at the ready. Instinctively, I reached for a weapon at my belt…and came up with a dagger. Cursing my luck, I brought the tiny blade up in a defensive position and tried to hold my ground.

The smaller blade shattered as Velscar's blades crushed it in a pincer-like motion, before the demon hunter knocked me to the ground.

"Look at yourself," he ordered. "Look at what you wish you could be again."

And I did, for I had no choice as demonic claws dug into my skull, holding my head down in an iron grip. In the smooth, reflective surface of the floor, I saw an elf staring back at me.

His skin was a deeper shade of violet than Velscar's. His hair was a dark blue, rather than the sinister black mane of the demon hunter. And his eyes—for yes, he had eyes—shined like twin pools of silver moonlight.

Grabbing at my belt again, I found another dagger. Without questioning when it had appeared, I reached up and slashed at Velscar's wrist. A howl of outrage assaulted my ears as the claws retracted, and I leapt up to swing at him again.

"Good," he hissed. "Fight me. Fight me like the day your village burned!"

Again the scene shifted, and we were in the forest once more. Buildings and corpses alike burned all around us.

Screaming out in rage and fury, I drew another dagger from my belt and delivered strike after strike with the two blades. Each blow was expertly parried by the more powerful fighter, but I didn't care. Hatred drove my attacks, and as the demon hunter moved to counter attack, I quickly slipped into the shadows, reappearing behind him.

"Die, felspawn!" I spat.

As I drove both blades into his back, he vanished.

 _Such a capable fighter, even for a mortal. Even for a nightstalker. You held your own that day, even as Lenaria succumbed to the Legion._

Again the bodies piled up before me: men, women, and children. All of them night elves. All of them bloodied, burned, and mutilated.

 _This is the weakness you long for. This is who you wish to join: the weak, pitiful kaldorei. Those who shun our power and pay the price for it._

"Stop it," I snarled.

 _You travelled the world for three years, searching for the only elf left in Azeroth who could possibly understand…_

The flames spread further, consuming everything. Putrid boils in the earth burst forth as the scenery changed to what I knew to be the corrupted forest of Felwood.

"Lord Illidan!" I called out, feeling as if I were reciting a script. "Lord Illidan, I seek your guidance! Show me the path! Teach me your ways!"

It felt as if I wandered for miles, my desperate shouting ringing out through the rotten trees and blasted hills.

And sure enough, they called the demons to me like a siren song.

"Looking for the Betrayer, are we?" sneered the satyr. "Don't worry, little elf…we'll make this nice and quick!"

The felhound at his side let out a shrill howl.

I opened my mouth, but no words came out.

Just a roar of pure, unbridled hatred.

The satyr was first to die, his horned head leaving a trail of green as it rolled down the hill. I danced around the felhound's outstretched tentacles, slashing at them mid-dodge. Leaping atop the fiend, I drove both daggers into its mouth, ripping open the demonic flesh from above.

 _Yes…more…_

"Yes…more…" I said.

It was if I had entered a trance. I travelled the entire length of Felwood, slaughtering demon after demon after demon. They would all meet the same fate as those in my village. Satyrs and felhounds and imps and felguard; it didn't matter. All had their limbs cleaved off, their heads removed, their chests impaled. Demon after demon after demon, slaughter after slaughter after slaughter. My mind must have shattered long ago, for something far beyond mere obsession drove my blades, kept me from collapsing. Something that carried me through the woods, purging every demonic encampment I could find, all the way up to the coastal region of Nendis.

I looked down: my entire body was covered in the demons' foul, green blood. It stuck to me like warpaint, burning away at my clothes, eating away at my very flesh. But the pain felt good; I welcomed it.

But I still wanted more.

Staring out at the horizon, at the vast, empty blue of the Great Sea, the overwhelming weight of reality now came crashing down around me. Three long years of hate, slaughter, and death.

And it was all for nothing.

 _You accomplished nothing._

The clatter of metal upon wood rang in my ears as the blades hit the docks. I had been scarred, mutilated, my flesh torn open. The daggers would not suffice here.

No, I needed to feel ultimate, everlasting agony.

And so I began striding toward the ocean, ready to feel as much as I possibly could.

"What other purpose is there?" I asked aloud.

 _Join me, and you will serve a purpose far greater than you can possibly imagine. Join me, and you shall slaughter demons by the millions._

The words cut through the memory, but they were also a part of it, for it was not Velscar who now spoke. A shimmering green portal opened before me, and on the other side I could make out a blackened landscape filled with demonic energies. Meteors flew through the air, and in the distance, a massive fortress dominated the corrupted skyline.

 _Join me, and you will have your…_

The memory ended. The coastline dissolved, replaced by the arena once more.

"Now you see," said Velscar. "Velanath died long ago. Even before you burned out your eyes, you walked the path of the master."

"What do you want from me?" I demanded.

"When you consumed the wrathguard," he continued. "When you gave up your eyes. When you tainted your soul. You. me. _US._ We need each other. We _are_ each other."

"What do you want me to do?" I asked.

"Answer a very simple question," replied the blind elf, grinning sadistically. "Why did you spend three, long years, fighting a battle that you could not win?"

"Shut up," I snarled.

I already knew what he was getting at.

"What drove your blades? What kept you alive? Why did you join Lord Illidan? Why did you create me?"

"Shut up!" I yelled.

I didn't want to answer him.

"Why? Why? Why? Why? _Why?_ "

"To claim my _VENGEANCE!_ " I roared.

Agony tore through my body, pain like I had never known. I felt my body breaking apart, erupting into hungry, green flames. Claws erupted from my fingers, and my throat burned as a demonic roar erupted from my fanged maw. White-hot pain continued to assault me as razor-sharp scales, spikes, and horns burst through the surface of my flesh.

Snarling with hatred, I reached down and grabbed the elf, crushing him between my claws. As I inhaled the bright, green mist, my forked tongue licked my lips at the hot tang that filled my nostrils.

"Yes," I said. "More. I must have _MORE!_ "

And in response, thousands of demons swarmed me. With a shout of manic glee, I leapt forward, landing with a crash. The ground erupted into a shower of volcanic mayhem. I ripped felhounds in two and poured their burning green blood down my throat. I feasted on the wasted flesh of satyrs and scooped imps up by the handfuls to bite off their heads. I fractured entire infernals with a single swipe. Opening my mouth, I vomited up a mighty blast of putrid green breath to incinerate an entire squad of felguard as it charged me. Doomguard who attempted to dive-bomb me from the air were impaled on my spikes. My mighty claws crashed together, forming a massive orb of darkness. Flinging the spirit bomb into the air, I clapped once more. Tendrils shot out of the giant sphere, impaling each and every demon and extracting their corrupted souls. The wisp-like fragments flew into the orb, which exploded, sending a wave of shadowy soul fragments into my body.

I let out a blissful sigh as the transformation finally reached its end. My claws retracted into my fingertips. My horns and spikes also drew back as the flames were extinguished. But as I looked down at the reflective floor, a different figure now stared back. His hair was as black as his blindfold, behind which glared two smoldering orbs of demonic fire. Sharp, green lines were carved into his pale, pink flesh, which hosted many other scars, as well.

Looking up, I saw another figure standing a few feet away. His hair was a dark blue, his smooth, youthful skin a deep violet. As he gazed at me, his silver eyes widened with fear.

"W-what are you?" he stammered.

I felt extreme dislike for this pitiful creature, one that bordered on hatred. Yet there was also pity as I recognized what I had done to myself. Lena's deception had run deeper than I thought: she had planted the seeds of doubt and nostalgia, knowing my own longing would make them grow. The trap was all the more insidious simply because it had been one of my own making.

"My name is Velscar," I replied, walking over to him.

Stretching forth a hand, I summoned forth one of my warglaives. The deadly blade burst into reality in a furious blaze of emerald fire.

"I am a demon hunter," I replied, slashing downward.

And as the final remnant of my past crumpled to the ground, I knelt and whispered in his ear:

"And you are _nothing_."


	22. The Invasion of Niskara

Chapter 22: The Invasion of Niskara

 _Our crime was to sacrifice everything to save this world._

… _you imprisoned us._

 _You dare speak of sacrifice to me?_

 _I gave of my soul, my flesh! My people shun me as a freak! And what was my reward? Eternal torment from my 'sisters!?'_

The sudden _crack_ of felsteel breaking brought me back to the present, dispelling the memory of Tirathon's final words. I loosened my grip on the railing and took another deep breath. So many of our brethren had been lost to the sway of the Legion…so many of those who had sworn to hunt demons becoming exactly that which they hated the most.

 _But he was right, wasn't he? So much sacrifice, so much pain, all given to protect those who only ever cast you aside._

This time, I didn't bother to reply to the voice…my voice. Because it—I—was right. As tragic as it was, we had arrived at the Vault of the Wardens too late to bring Tirathon Saltheril back into the fold. I could only imagine the abandonment he must have felt in those final moments…the hatred.

And then Kil'jaeden would have appeared, offering solace.

I shook my head again, reminding myself of why we had even bothered to venture to the Vault in the first place. From where I stood, the Sargerite Keystone blazed triumphantly. By some strange twist of irony—or perhaps even fate—the Illidari once again held the skeleton key to the universe. It would allow us to locate Varedis once and for all.

And, no doubt, it would play an even greater role in the Master's ultimate plan.

 _One thing at a time_ , I reminded myself.

"Jace, Allari, report," I commanded, striding down the ramp. "How close are we to synchronizing the Keystone with the Fel Hammer's location matrix?"

"Very," Jace replied from his position at one of the control consoles. The night elf took a brief pause to work a few more enchantments, before nodding at Allari.

"Lord Illidan had greater vision than even we could have imagined," added the blood elf. "Perhaps he knew all along that we would require the Keystone to carry on in his stead. To think that he could have conceived of all this, all those years ago…"

"We may never know the full extent of the Master's plans," said Kor'vas. "But his cause is now our own. Soon, we'll have the location of our missing 'brother.'"

 _Foolish little demon hunters…_

The voice thundered up and down the basalt-lined walls of the Fel Hammer. The very ship seemed to shudder in response.

 _You think you command such great power…that by painting your bodies and burning out your eyes, you pose a threat to the conquerors of the cosmos…you are but children, dressing in the guise of your long-forgotten father…he was weak, and you are even more worthless._

There could be no mistaking that hellish voice, or the magically-suggestive words. Even as I hated every syllable, I had to fight hard not to believe that this was the truth: that we were, in fact, struggling against the inevitable. That Lord Illidan was a colossal failure, and we were even greater fools for following in this shadow.

With as great an effort as I could muster, I leapt back onto the upper platform and drew my warglaives.

"Illidari, rally to me!" I yelled. "Show yourself…Deceiver."

The sound of a thousand volcanoes erupting responded to my challenge, accompanied by a maniacal laugh that was like the thunderclap of a hundred lightning bolts. The colossal form of Kil'jaeden the Deceiver filled the entire doorway of the Fel Hammer. Though it was a mere projection, the demon lord remained a figure of evil incarnate.

Unsure of whether it would do any good, I activated my spectral sight, determined not to be caught in the sinister glare of the demon's hate-filled gaze.

"Illidari!" bellowed the Deceiver. "Your insolence has come to an end. The time has come for you to join the Burning Legion, and become Felsworn. In the name of Sargeras, master of all worlds, I compel you!"

Kil'jaeden's words were magnetic, pulling something deep inside me to the surface. I realized with a start that the Deceiver was appealing to my inner demon…to all our demons. Even as I fought against the demon lord's grasp, I could feel myself being compelled. Part of me _wanted_ to serve the Deceiver…and I knew I wasn't the only one.

Thinking fast, I decided on a single, desperate spell. Straining against Kil'jaeden's hypnotic pull, I gathered together all the energy I could muster. Attacking would have been futile; there was no way to know just how far the demon lord's grasp extended. Sending that much power across the universe would have been a colossal waste of energy.

Instead, I focused my power on the other demon hunters.

As the massive dome of bright green energy grew to fill the entire chamber, each and every demon hunter appeared to grow stronger, more resilient.

For I had included in my spell a memory…and not just any memory.

" _You wish to know the difference between the demons and us? They will stop at_ nothing _to destroy our world."_

As the words of Illidan Stormrage echoed through the mind of every demon hunter, broken, naga, and shivarra, it was like a brilliant beam of moonlight on a cloudy evening. I could feel Kil'jaeden's mental suggestion fading away. As one, the Illidari gave the demon lord our answer:

"And we will sacrifice _everything_ to save it!"

With a colossal roar of unrestrained fury, the image of the Deceiver actually appeared to draw back, as if repelled by our vow.

"Very well," he scowled. "You have sealed your fate. Varedis will see you all purged from existence."

"Tell him not to wait too long," I retorted. "We are coming for him."

As Kil'jaeden vanished with one final, furious howl, I turned back toward Allari and Jace.

"Are we ready?" I asked.

"Affirmative," replied Allari. "Everyone hold on; we're about to teleport a demonically-infused battleship halfway across the universe."

Sure enough, the chamber suddenly began shaking uncontrollably as the Fel Hammer's outer frame shifted into its travel mode. The fel bulwarks activated around each of the doorways, sealing us in. As our navigators cast their spell, the Sargerite Keystone lit up in response, blazing furiously and bathing the command chamber in its energies.

"Show us the way to Niskara," I commanded it.

And then, I could feel it. Our stolen Legion vessel was shooting rapidly across the cosmos, flying through space and time. I had to give some credit to the mo'arg, for it was a much smoother ride than I had expected.

"You do realize we just crossed one of the most powerful demon lords in the entire cosmos, right?" asked Kor'vas.

"The gauntlet has been thrown," I agreed. "But taking out Varedis will buy us the time we need to focus on resurrecting the Master. For now, we have a traitor to slay, and a world full of demons that needs purging."

* * *

"We've arrived," reported Jace.

"Alright," I began. "I want everyone grouped into three separate teams. Jace, Allari, and Asha, take a small squad of broken with you and man the cannons. I want this planet bombarded before we even set foot on the ground."

"By the time we're through, there won't be a single demon left between you and the objective," promised Allari.

"Vandel, Kayn, Kor'vas and I will be leading our primary invasion force," I continued.

"I shall immediately begin rallying our forces," replied Kayn, saluting sharply.

"Belath, assist Lady S'theno, Shade, and the Matron Mother," I commanded. "We could use the support of their people to ensure we're not overrun."

"None shall sssslip by usss," promised the naga matron.

"They'll never see us coming," added Belath.

"Alright," I said. "It's been a long road, but we've tracked Varedis to this location. Let's make the Master proud…and force the Legion to fear the wrath of the Illidari once more!"

Niskara was very much a Legion world. The blasted, corrupted landscape, the glowing green spires of volcanic rock…all were immediately recognizable as signs that the Burning Legions held this territory.

That all changed today.

* * *

Gigantic meteors of bright green flame descended upon the world of Niskara as the Fel Hammer rained down felfire upon the Legion's forces. Nothing was spared: everything from fortresses to encampments to demon squadrons was incinerated by our wrath. The demons had done the same to countless innocent worlds. Now it was they who were being conquered and exterminated.

"It's good to fight again," I admitted, gutting a felguard before then bisecting a doomguard. "To slaughter demon flesh by the thousands. It's been far too long since we invaded a Legion world."

Kor'vas paused just long to incinerate a squadron of imps before replying. "I can hardly wait to mount that traitor's head on a spike," she said gleefully.

"What a prize it will make for the Master when he returns," added Kayn, leaping at an approaching dreadlord and tackling it to the ground, before slitting its throat and puncturing both eyes for good measure.

 _You have one last chance. Abandon this attack._ NOW!

As that thunderous voice rumbled throughout the planet, I found myself smirking at the Deceiver's persistence. Ducking beneath a wrathguard's swing, I twisted around and impaled it from behind, before then leaping into the air and crushing a group of mo'arg upon impact. Tainted earth and mutilated demon parts flew into the air as the ground exploded from the fiery sigil I had placed.

Then, I spat on the ground.

 _So be it. But know that if you proceed, Varedis shall annihilate you._

"The Deceiver's all talk," sneered Vandel, hacking away at a voidwalker. "The cowardly demon would rather his puppet fight for him."

Before I could reply, an ear-splitting howl pierced the air.

"Move!" I ordered.

A gigantic felstalker crashed down where we had been standing but moments prior. Its faceless, skeletal maw opened wide to reveal the hollow abyss that could swallow an elf whole.

I responded by pouring a stream of felfire down its throat.

The beast howled in agony as its insides were scorched and seared. Quickly clamping its jaw shut, the hound charged right at us. We leapt around the monstrous demon, hacking away at its sides as we performed our perilous dance. The felstalker was massive, but it was still outnumbered. Every swipe, and we cut at its limbs. Every bite, and we shattered its teeth. Inevitably, it fell like any other demon, crashing to the ground with one final howl.

We continued following the trail down into a large valley, where an encampment of the Legion's jailers and inquisitors remained working on their prisoners…or rather, what was left of them.

Shaking my head in disgust at the twisted things that had once been living creatures, I watched in sober satisfaction as the entire base was annihilated by the Fel Hammer's cannons.

"Onward," I said.

At long last, a massive fortress rose up before us. A single entryway lay barred with fel energy.

"Bombard it," I commanded.

And in response, the Fel Hammer concentrated all its fire on Varedis' hideout. The majority of the structure held, with only a few small fragments being chipped away. The barrier, however, easily shattered, and the Illidari quickly poured through.

"Continue your assault on the planet," I said. "The Fel Hammer's cannons won't be able to penetrate the fortress walls, so we'll be on our own in here."

 _"Roger that,"_ replied Jace. _"We'll make sure your visit with Varedis remains…uninterrupted."_

As we entered the fortress, I saw that the structure was not unlike the Fel Hammer. The Legion had never been known for its originality.

And waiting for us in the very center of the room was Varedis.

The traitor flexed his muscles in challenge, drawing a pair of warglaives.

"You will die a slow, painful death," he told us. "Caria failed. I shall not."

The area behind Varedis suddenly exploded in a great blast of felfire. From the aura emerged none other than Kil'jaeden himself.

"Now the fighters have been assembled," rumbled the great demon lord. "Entertain me, and perhaps I shall display my mercy. Varedis…dispose of your brethren. Show these mortal fools the power of the Legion!"

"Yes, master!" replied Varedis. "I will not fail you again!"

So saying, Varedis leapt into the air, crashing down and knocking us away. Quickly recovering, we rushed at him as one, hacking away at his sides and wings.

"I hope you're not feeling too badly about me taking your warglaives," I taunted. "They've just found a more…capable master."

Varedis gnashed his teeth as our glaives interlocked. The demonic metal squeaked as the blades scraped against each other.

"I am more powerful than any of you," he spat. "I do not need those paltry glaives to exterminate you! Lord Kil'jaeden has granted me more power than you could ever imagine!"

And it was true: our former mentor had grown even more powerful since our last encounter: armored scales had formed over his skin, and he moved with even greater speed and agility. It was four on one, and Varedis still managed to stave off most of our blows.

As he knocked us back once more, I extended my wings and flew into the air. The others quickly did the same, and together we blasted away at Varedis from above. Four great beams of felfire poured from eight empty eye sockets, bathing the traitor in agonizing green fire.

I immediately retracted my wings, allowing myself to fall through the air and landing with a crash in front of Varedis. The ground exploded in flames upon my landing, driving Varedis back and forcing him on the defensive. As I continued to engage him, the others renewed their attack on all sides, surrounding him the way a pack of wolves might engage a wild kodo. Varedis may have been larger and more powerful, but he was alone.

Alone against the Illidari.

With a great roar, Varedis shoved me back, and as his own eyes began glowing, I immediately prepared my own attack, meeting his blast with my own. The twin streams of felfire pushed back and forth as our wills struggled against one another. Burning sweat coursed down my face as I strained against him. My brain, my skull, my entire body felt as if it were on fire.

With a manic cackle, Varedis then immediately halted his attack, allowing my blast to go through. Glowing a bright green, the traitor activated his wards, blocking the others' attacks and even charging straight through my blast to send me flying through the air. I let out a furious roar as I slammed into the volcanic stone, hard. Whirling around and flapping his wings, Varedis then sent the others sprawling across the room.

"Weak, pitiful Illidari," sneered Varedis. "Have I taught you nothing? You fight like rank amateurs plucked straight from the forests of Ashenvale."

"This isn't over," I growled.

With an inhuman effort, I let out a demonic roar, leaping back at Varedis. Razor-sharp spikes shot out from my back, piercing my flesh. The pain should have been impossible to handle. I directed it all into my attacks, calling forth felfire to ignite my warglaives and scorch Varedis' flesh with each strike.

"Ah, so the demon comes forth at last," mocked the traitor.

"Demons," corrected Kor'vas, rushing at Varedis from the side.

She, too, had called upon her inner demon. They all had. As one, the demons of the Illidari brought all our power to bear upon Varedis Felsoul, striking with claws, teeth, spikes, fire…and pure, raw, hatred.

Varedis' attacks became more desperate. I effortlessly parried every strike as the others chipped away at his armor. The traitor actually bled as our fiery warglaives dug into his twisted flesh.

"No," he said, almost pleadingly. "I can't…"

But Varedis knew that he had met his end, as had always been inevitable. Parrying one final, desperate strike, I snarled and shoved his glaives aside, countering and driving my own blades deep into his abdomen. Varedis jerked as six other blades impaled him from all sides. As we tore our weapons free, the demon that had once mentored us collapsed to the ground.

"Lord…Kil'jaeden…" he gasped. "Please…save me…master…"

Kil'jaeden sniffed disdainfully, not even bothering to acknowledge his fallen puppet.

"Illidari," he boomed. "You have sealed your fate, and the fate of Azeroth. Recall this, when the time comes: I gave you a chance to stand by my side and watch the universe burn. Now, you will burn with it!"

As Varedis died and Kil'jaeden vanished, I slowly sheathed my warglaives.

"It's over," I announced. "There will be no return for Varedis, after dying here. Illidari, beam us all out of here. Our mission is complete."

 _"Hold still,"_ replied Allari teasingly. _"This won't hurt a bit!"_

* * *

Once all were accounted for back on the deck of the Fel Hammer, I turned toward the Shade.

"Do it," I ordered.

Nodding, the Shade of Akama poured his magic into the Fel Hammer's cannons, joined by Jace, Allari, and all our allies. Strengthened by all this magic, the Fel Hammer let forth one final blast. I turned my head away as the universe was scorched with the furious green energies of a dying world.

And then, it was done.

* * *

Back on Mardum, I stood at the railing on the second floor and swept my blind gaze over my assembled allies.

"Illidari," I began. "We have all lost much to the malice of the Burning Legion. Friends. Family. Homes. _Entire worlds_ have perished at the hands of the demons' madness. We found a mentor—nay, a father! One who showed us that the very powers we once feared could be turned on their creators! One who gave us the power to strike back at those who threatened not just our world, but _all life across the universe!_ And by using the gifts he granted us, and employing the skills he taught us, we have carried on his mission—a mission that many would have deemed to be impossible! We have obtained the Sargerite Keystone. We have slain the traitor, Varedis Felsoul! We have withstood the very presence of the Deceiver himself! And we have destroyed an entire world, thereby removing yet another of the demons' bases! Now comes the greatest challenge of all: we must work alongside the other heroes of Azeroth to do the impossible once again. We must bring back the greatest threat to the Burning Legion that the universe has ever known. Together, _we shall resurrect our lord and master, Illidan Stormrage!_ "

As the Illidari cheered in recognition of our triumph, I thought about my words. Resurrecting the greatest demon hunter the world had ever known would not be easy. But we had no choice. If we were ever going to challenge Kil'jaeden, as well as Sargeras himself, there really was no alternative. We needed Lord Illidan's guidance, now more than ever.

Or all worlds would burn.


	23. A Trial of Valor

_Disclaimer: I do not own World of Warcraft, which is the property of Blizzard Entertainment._

 _I make no monetary profit from this story, which is exclusively for entertainment purposes._

Chapter 23: A Trial of Valor

"I hope we can rely on you, _demon hunter_. I don't want to have to turn my blade on you once we're in Helheim."

I scoffed at the Highlord, a draenei named Valynth. He had reluctantly allowed the Illidari to join his forces, along with those of the Conclave and the Ebon Blade, in assisting the Valarjar in what would prove to be a task of godlike proportions.

Actually, Valynth hadn't really had any choice in the matter—Odyn, the titanic watcher who controlled the floating Halls of Valor, had insisted on the Illidari being there when the combined armies marched on Helheim.

"You should worry more about the other monsters you have allied with, _paladin_ ," I retorted. "In Helheim, it is skeletons and zombies you will be fighting, not demons."

Much had happened to bring us to this fateful moment. While the Illidari were assaulting Niskara, the druids of the Cenarion Circle, working alongside their allies in the Conclave, had successfully rescued the Archdruid from Xavius' clutches. The two forces had then formed a much larger army to purge the Nightmare entirely from Val'sharah. This proved to be a monumental setback for the Legion's forces in that area, as the demons had no doubt counted on the Old Gods to keep Azeroth's defenders occupied. As far as the Illidari were concerned, the war against the Legion was finally making some progress.

Especially once we finally managed to pinpoint the location of the Master's body.

 _"Suramar," rumbled the Shade of Akama. "Specifically, the Nighthold."_

 _"Wonderful," muttered Kor'vas. "Only the most fortified structure in all of Suramar, right in the middle of Legion territory. I understand the leader of the Nightborne has forged a pact with Gul'dan? Getting through to the Master's body won't be easy."_

 _"That is correct," replied Belath. "Scouting reports confirm that both the city and the surrounding lands are crawling not just with demons, but also with fel-infused elves. Not on the same level as us, of course, but it's clear the Nightborne have sold their souls to the Legion."_

 _"There is some hope," added Asha. "Belath and I have both reached out to a local Nightborne named Thalyssra. Slowly but surely, she's sowing the seeds of rebellion, leading a group known as the Nightfallen. It's mostly the Tirisgarde and the Uncrowned aiding her for the moment, as their operatives have the most to offer until the Nightfallen can stage a full assault."_

 _"Still, this presents an opportunity," I replied, nodding thoughtfully. "Keep on that; I want you both to aid this rebellion against the Legion in any way possible. Ensure that both the Nightfallen and their allies know that the Illidari are there to help. It's in our best interest that Suramar is reclaimed."_

 _"Now more than ever," rasped the Shade. "For the vision we performed also reveals that Gul'dan is preparing a ritual to infuse Lord Illidan's body with the soul of Sargeras himself."_

 _Never had the Fel Hammer gone so quiet. The crackling of the fel flames was nearly deafening._

 _"Then we're running out of time," I announced. "Not just for us, but for all of Azeroth. If Gul'dan succeeds, every victory, every effort currently being made by the Orders will have been for nothing."_

 _"So the fate of the world lies in the hands of the Illidari," said Kor'vas. "Wouldn't be the first time."_

 _"Fortunately, the Soul Prism is finally complete," reported Allari. "Our efforts in hunting down demons have provided just enough soul fragments for its construction."_

 _"Then it's ready to go?" I asked._

 _"Absolutely."_

 _Picking up the green, hexagonal gem with both hands, I activated my spectral sight. The prism was about the size of a small bowl, and blazed like a demonic star. If I really concentrated, I thought I could almost make out the numerous souls swimming around in its depths._

 _Somewhere in there, the thing that had once been my sister was among them._

 _"We have the prism," I announced, pushing the thought aside. "We know where the Master's body is. Now we just need his soul."_

This should have been a monumental setback, a waste of time that we didn't have. Instead, what happened next had been the stroke of luck we needed.

Wrinkling my nose, I looked past the Highlord to the most terrifying creature in all existence:

An undead gnome.

In answer to our greatest problem, Deathlord Nixxy of the Ebon Blade had appeared aboard the Fel Hammer, given us a quick, _"Hey, we know where your boss' soul is, so get over to the Halls of Valor on the double!"_ and vanished.

"Don't make me regret lending you our aid," I muttered to Valynth. "If all this turns out to be some clever ruse to force the Illidari to cooperate—"

"ENOUGH."

The single command drew our attention back to our host. Odyn's voice was like thunder, and demanded respect from anyone trained in the arts of war. One couldn't help but marvel at the sheer size of the great stone-and-fire being. Here, truly, was a warrior.

"Allow me to put your minds at ease, demon hunters," he boomed. "Your time with us shall be well-spent. Though I am confined to the Halls of Valor, my gaze is vast. I have watched your battles, and I know of your struggle to return your master to the realm of the living. I have also seen the memories of my Valarjar, as well as the death knights and paladins who have returned from Helheim, and found no lie in any of them. It is certain that there is at least one particular soul in Helya's possession that is brimming with fel energy. This soul does not belong to any demon of the Legion, from what we can ascertain, and even appears to be in a state of conflict."

 _As if trying to return to its body_ , I realized.

It made a kind of sense, the more I thought about—Gul'dan must have struck some kind of deal with Helya, but even if he didn't, this death-witch would have been doing the warlock a favor by taking the Master's soul off his hands.

So now we stood assembled in the great arena before Odyn's throne in the golden, glorious Halls of Valor. The place had a certain appeal to it, even for one accustomed to the foul, green vapors of the Fel. Here was a place dedicated to love of battle, an eternal arena to sate a never-ending love of combat. I carefully drew my weapons as the warriors of the Valarjar did the same. The priests, paladins, and death knights wove enchantments of both light and death. I felt the healing magic of the Light drape over me like a warm blanket, and silently thanked my 'allies' for not striking me dead just yet.

"Champions of Light! Of Death! Of Fel, and of the sword!" proclaimed Odyn. "You have all fought valiantly for your orders across the Broken Isles, both in Stormheim and abroad! Many of you have spilled the blood of Helya's minions. Many of you have spilled the blood of her allies. Now the time has come to enter Helheim at long last and end the sea witch's dark reign. But first…one final challenge awaits you!"

Twin columns of light blazed into life before us, and from them stepped a pair of mighty warriors, each glad in gleaming armor. One, a vrykul, brandished his mighty sword with a loud, booming battle cry. The other, a val'kyr, stretched forth her great golden wings and let forth a piercing, harp-like song of war.

"Hymdall! Hyrja!" bellowed Odyn. "You shall test the mettle of these heroes, for we must be certain that they possess the courage and skill needed for what is to come."

Hymdall gave a mighty huff in response.

"Shall we be lenient with these pets of yours?" he asked mockingly.

"Hold nothing back!" commanded Odyn.

"So be it!" yelled Hyrja. "The unworthy shall be purged from the Halls of Valor!"

"The battle is yours to begin, heroes," said Odyn.

Glancing over at Nixxy, I gave a nod, and the Deathlord let out a chilling cackle in response.

Calling upon my demonic energies, letting them fuel my powers, and let out a bestial roar as I leapt through the air at Hymdall. Nixxy charged at Hyrja, shrieking like a banshee. The val'kyr attempted to fly upward to avoid the Deathlord's blows, but a sinister, glowing claw ensnared Hyrja around the waist, yanking her out of the air and sending her back to the ground…hard.

"So be it!" yelled Hymdall. "Now I shall be the judge!"

"Impudent little mongrel!" spat Hyrja. "None can best one of Eyir's chosen!"

"You boast far too much," I taunted as I parried Hymdall's blows. " _This_ is all the Titans have to offer?"

Nixxy simply continued her deranged cackling, the Deathlord's unholy runeblades taking on a life of their own to dance around and cut away at Hyrja. Rays of healing light flew through the air to sustain us as blades glowing bright gold, fiery green, or dripping with a sickly, blackish aura cut into our foes.

Hymdall seemed to realize that blades alone would not be enough to stem this onslaught. As we locked blades, he summoned a great, golden horn in his other hand.

"Only cowards fear the call of battle!" he proclaimed.

Putting the horn to his lips, Hymdall blew deeply, and a great roar thundered throughout the Halls. Mighty pillars of pure light appeared around our various fights, forcing them to scatter before the glowing columns exploded. A massive field of light surrounded Hymdall himself, and I quickly leapt away as the vrykul himself became bathed in a scorching sunburst of pure valor.

Nor was Hyrja idle, for the val'kyr also sent multiple beams of light arcing down at our soldiers, forcing us all to scatter around the room. These beams exploded everywhere they touched, causing catastrophic damage.

But these tricks would not stop us. Our forces regrouped. We recovered, and commenced our assault anew. Even from a distance, numerous felbolts, weapons, and glowing hammers flew through the air to impact upon Hymdall and Hyrja, as layers of soft, glowing light settled themselves upon our fighters to heal what wounds the warriors' attacks had caused.

"Ha!" bellowed Hymdall. "My blade also has a life of its own!"

So saying, great vrykul actually _split_ his blade in half, throwing one outward toward our combined armies, even as he continued to engage me in combat. This second blade spun like a goblin buzzsaw, burning with a great, fiery aura and forcing our allies even further back.

"Your assault weakens!" taunted Hymdall. "Perhaps you are not as ferocious as you thought?"

"You must stand together—or you shall die alone!" added Hyrja.

The val'kyr's shield glowing with a blinding blaze of sunlight, and from it burst forth a massive beam of searing, holy fire.

"Rally to me, comrades!" yelled Valynth. "We fight together! For Azeroth!"

So saying, the Highlord called upon the power of Light to summon any nearby allies to his side, before erecting mighty bulwarks on all sides. Hyrja's blast collided with these shields and passed through them, just barely scarring those sealed within.

"Prepare the runes!" commanded Odyn. "These heroes need further testing!"

All around the arena, vrykul runes blazed to life in a variety of colors. From blazing pillars emerged a variety of vrykul soldiers to engage our forces, who had also been marked with the glowing symbols.

"To the runes!" yelled Vandel, rushing to the green rune. "Let us show these warriors that we have wit to match our weapons!"

The Battlelord of the Valarjar, an orc by the name of Kromgal, grunted in response, and leapt for the fiery red rune after heaving his mighty axe at one of Odyn's warriors.

"Do you think we shall be defeated so easily?" asked Valynth, tossing his hammer at another vrykul from his position atop the blue sigil.

These added foes proved to be no match for our army, and were easily dragged down beneath the storm of blades, hammers, and warglaives, before the assault returned once more to Hymdall and Hyrja. The two warriors returned our fury ten-fold, as more explosions and blasts of light thundered all about the arena. Only in a place such as the Halls of Valor could such brutal, unrestrained combat take place. And yet I did not feel weakened, but rather strengthened by the endless combat. Here was a place where every sorcerer and swordsman could indulge their unrestrained lust for battle.

Hymdall continued to batter away at my armor, but the titan-forged warrior had not nearly as much experience in fighting demons. For every scale he cleaved away, two more grew back in addition to the long, sinister spikes that acted as additional blades. I could sense him and his partner growing more desperate as our army continued its assault. More explosions rocked the arena. Odyn called forth even more reinforcements.

None of it did any good against our combined might, and at long last, both warriors succumbed to defeat.

"Well done!" proclaimed Odyn. "But your test remains only half-complete! Now, I shall judge for myself to see whether you are worthy!"

I had to admit, it was a bit unnerving to hear that we were going to now face a titanic watcher. I wasn't the only one—the prospect of facing Odyn caused noticeable discomfort in our ranks. But Valynth was nothing if not a capable leader, and the draenei quickly raised his hammer in a rallying cry.

Even so, as Odyn leapt down, landing with the unstoppable force of an earthquake, I knew that here was our real test. The master of the Halls was as large as a mountain, his blade as wide as a great vrykul ship.

"Have at thee!" he roared.

I immediately began channeling my demonic energies to their fullest. More spikes tore through my flesh, sprouting from my back and shoulders to act as additional blades. A bright green barrier faded into existence around me. Angry emerald flames burned with fury around my warglaives as I crossed them over my head in a parrying maneuver.

None of it did any good as Odyn's colossal spear smashed into my defenses. I ground my teeth together as I fought just to remain standing. The watcher's strength tore through my barrier and shattered my spikes, driving me into the floor. I heard myself growl as my muscles strained to hold him back—it was like trying to fend off a mountain. _Here_ was the kind of power that only a titan could dream of, and Odyn had been gifted with but a fraction of the gods' true might.

Sweat ran down my body as the overwhelming weight continued to crush me. Faintly I heard the sound of numerous blades and spells smashing into Odyn's gigantic frame, but it might as well have been a pail of water against a brick wall. Then, I felt it—the power of the Holy Light flowing into me, and I made out the heroic figure of Valynth off to the side, chanting from a golden, glowing tome.

"Fear not, friend Velscar!" he yelled. "You shall not fall this day! _Pheta vi acahachi!_ "

Forcing all my strength into fending off Odyn's attack, I brought the power of my inner demon to the surface. What happened next shocked me, for I could feel the Highlord pouring more and more strength into me, even as my flesh became scales, my fingers claws, and my feet hooves. The combined powers of the Fel and the Light should have torn me apart from the inside out.

Instead, I felt strong enough to defeat a titan.

To my right, I could see that Deathlord Nixxy had received the same boon; though the gnome still reeked of death, her tiny frame glowed with the power of the Light. Such an enormous amount of this holy power should have been fatal to us both, but there was no time to ponder this new development. Instead, we renewed our attack on Odyn as our allies continued their assault on all sides.

"Your resilience is impressive," boomed Odyn, "as is your cooperation. You will need both to survive what comes next."

The floor began to flow a blinding light, and from beneath shot up massive spears of light, forcing us to scatter. I immediately leapt away, landing with an explosive crash of Fel energy on Odyn's side.

"You are light on your feet," remarked the great warrior. "Let us test your reflexes!"

Now the entire arena blazed with a scorching, searing aura, as if an ocean of light were rushing in to sweep us all away. I quickly glanced around and noticed that a single, large area remained uncovered, and vaulted through the air. I could hear Nixxy and Valynth rallying their forces to do the same as the thundering footsteps hurried after me.

We escaped Odyn's attack not a moment too soon, for the flood of light now _exploded_ , utterly consuming the majority of the arena. The unrelenting blast tore away the walls and ate away at the floor.

We now fought Odyn on a single, narrow platform, floating in the middle of an empty universe of light.

"You have seen the power of the light," he roared. "Now, feel the fury of the storm!"

Odyn raised his great spear high into the air, and the mighty weapon began crackling with a furious, bright blue energy. I quickly leapt back as far as I could while Nixxy let loose a banshee shriek to divert Odyn's attention. The titanic watcher turned around to assault the death knight, as the gigantic, electric projectile smashed into me.

If I had thought Odyn's strength was colossal, this was nothing compared to the ensuing explosion of lightning and raw power. If a tidal wave of stone had smashed into me, it could not have been more painful. I nearly blacked out as I went flying through the air, but managed to stay conscious just enough to extend my wings and glide back down to the edge of the platform.

Where I dangled by a single, clawed hand above the vast, empty space of oblivion.

I could feel my strength giving way. The desire to let go and be consumed by light seemed to be growing stronger. I wondered if this, too, was one of Odyn's tactics. What was the point of opposing the strength of the titans?

What was the point of fighting this war?

Why not simply…just…let…go…?

 _Yes. Let go. What are you, compared to the might of a titan? If you cannot stand against a mere gnat like Odyn, what chance have you against the power of the Dark Titan himself?_

My mind immediately became clear. Ironically, it was the nagging words of my inner demon that reminded me I had a job to do.

More importantly, it reminded me that I had consumed the most destructive power in the universe.

And mastered it.

Odyn was _nothing_.

"I will not be defeated so easily," I vowed. " _I will not!_ "

With a great roar, I summoned forth all the demonic strength I possessed, and leapt through the air at Odyn. Horns curled up from my forehead as my fingers sharpened into claws and my feet became hooves. My flesh became mottled and dark, and a pair of giant, bat-like wings unfolded to carry me toward my opponent.

Snarling with demonic vigor, I plunged my warglaives into Odyn's mighty frame, tearing away at his armor. The titan watcher actually _stumbled_ for a fraction of a second, but that was all it took. With a rallying cry, the combined forces of the Illidari, the Silver Hand, the Ebon Blade, and the Conclave all fell upon Odyn. Blades cut into his legs. Maces smashed his boulder-sized feet. Felbolts and blasts of Holy Light seared his colossal frame. None of these attacks should have proven fatal, and yet I could see Odyn backing away in the face of our full, unrestrained fury.

" _ENOUGH!"_ he bellowed.

At Odyn's command, the Halls of Valor reassembled themselves. Pieces of the broken floor slid into place as if part of a puzzle. The walls rose back up to surround us on all sides. Odyn's throne once again appeared to loom over us all.

"Enough," repeated Odyn, and this time, I almost imagined I could detect a hint of fear—or at least awe—in his voice. "Your worth has indeed been proven! With such unrelenting valor and strength fueling my champions, Helya shall indeed fall this day! Soon, I shall at last be free of the curse that binds me."

With that, Odyn slammed a massive foot down on the floor, and a great portal opened itself in the fabric of reality. Yet despite its golden frame, I could sense the overwhelming stench of death emanating from the other side.

"Prepare thyselves, champions," said Odyn. "For your true test lies before you."

As the priests and paladins began binding the wounds of our forces, I led the Illidari toward the doorway to Helheim. On the other side, we would retrieve the Master's soul.

Or be forever trapped in a nightmare of unending death.


End file.
